Threads Of A Life
by illman
Summary: How do you pick up the pieces of an old life when you’ve lost the things that made you who you are? Who can you rely on to find yourself again?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Threads Of A Life

Author: hexicode aka illman

Fandom/pairing (if appropriate): The Bill, no pairing

Summary: How do you pick up the pieces of an old life when you've lost the things that made you who you are? Who can you rely on to find yourself again?

Rating: no 'adult content' in this story, but probably a bit too violent for the kiddies

Warnings character death, violence, AU

Disclaimers: The characters and settings aren't mine. No profit is being made, this is for entertainment only.

A/N: This story takes place just before the events in the episodes _…And Nothing But The Truth _and _Day of Reckoning_ and takes a fairly sharp turn into AU-territory from there on. And now that the author's notes are almost as long as the prologue, I might as well put in the story. Enjoy!

ETA: Now beta-read by the lovely DianeM. Thanks so much for all your hard work!

Prologue

Emma normally wasn't a light sleeper. Matt always joked that she slept the sleep of the just, given how almost nothing could wake her once she was soundly asleep. But that night, she kept startling awake, woken by nothing more tangible than a feeling of dread and foreboding.

Once again driven from sleep, Emma stared into the darkness for a moment, until her eyes found the green glowing digits of her alarm clock. The time was 3.43 a.m. Emma thought she heard a noise coming from beyond the bedroom door. Alarmed at first, she turned to see that Matt wasn't there beside her. He'd probably gone to the bathroom, Emma thought groggily, her senses and mind still dulled from the painkillers she had been given at the hospital. She sighed and turned back, taking care not to jar her arm, where she had received a stab wound the previous day at work. She closed her eyes, willing to let herself drift off once again. She was already half asleep, but despite fatigue and drugs, she knew instantly what the faint popping sound coming from downstairs meant. Emma was out of bed in a flash. She ran down the stairs, her path illuminated by a thin ray of light coming from the kitchen. Her heart was pounding painfully hard against the inside of her chest when she used her good arm to push open the door. In the glaringly bright light from overhead, the scene looked almost grotesque and unreal. Matt, in his pyjamas was slumped on the stone floor about three feet from the kitchen counter. The crimson halo of blood spreading out around his head looked like paint, but the smell of gunpowder and blood in the still night air confirmed that the scene in front of her was very real indeed. Emma didn't have to check for a pulse to know that Matt was dead. She did it anyways, crouching down next to him, brushing her fingers gently over his neck. He was dead, there was no doubt. Emma couldn't take her eyes off him, and no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't move. It was if her body was reacting where her mind wasn't. She didn't feel anything - no shock, no grief, not even fear. It was as if she was looking at any dead body, not at that of her husband of six months.

It was a noise, coming from the hallway, that finally shook her from her daze. In an instant, she realized there was someone else in the house, most likely someone with a gun. Her body now tense, she listened. The voices were too hushed for her to make out any words, but she could tell that there were at least two people. Were they looking for her? Emma didn't dare to move. Her mind was suddenly crystal clear, her senses sharper than ever.

"I'm telling you, I heard something," a male voice came from beyond the kitchen doorway. He sounded young, but not like a teenager. Older. "There's someone else here."

"What if they saw us?" a thin voice asked. It was a woman's voice, younger and she sounded panicked, even close to tears. That wasn't a good sign, Emma thought. The more they panicked, the less were her chances of getting out of this alive.

"Wait in the car!" an authoritative female voice commanded, presumably talking to the other woman. "We'll handle this."

Emma heard footsteps, then the sound of the front door opening and closing a second later. Then, silence. Had they all left? Emma looked around as she listened. There was no door leading to the outside from the kitchen. But there was a window she might be able to climb through. But it faced the street and most likely the car of the intruders. Still, it seemed like a far better bet than staying hidden or trying to make it out the front door. Emma got to her feet, forcing herself not to look at Matt's body again. This wasn't the time, she reminded herself. She needed to think clearly if she wanted to live. Emma moved across the room as silently as possible. She heard footfalls approach from behind. Someone was coming; had they seen her already? Run or hide? In the split second it took for her to make the decision, a hand landed on her shoulder from behind. Emma didn't dare to breathe as she felt the person's hot breath against her neck.

"Don't move!" It was just a hoarse whisper, but the point was driven home when the still warm barrel of a gun made contact with the base of her skull.

"What are you doing?" the man's voice from earlier called out, followed by a rapid series of footfalls. All Emma could see of the intruders were two warped reflections in the kitchen window. They were both white - the man medium built with close-cropped dark hair, the woman petite with long dark hair. Emma stared at the reflections, trying to memorize as many details as she could. If she did get out of this alive, she wanted Matt's killer caught.

"This wasn't part of the plan!" the man protested. "Let's just get out of here!"

Emma prayed the woman would listen to him.

"What if she's seen us?! Do you want to spend the rest of your life in prison? What about Nina, then? You know it would kill her!" the woman argued. Emma could only see a vague outline of her features in the reflection in the window, but the voice was enough to tell her that the woman was serious and not about to back down.

"Please, don't do this," Emma didn't think pleading would be of any use, but she didn't care. She didn't want to die. "I won't be able to identify you, you don't have to do this," her voice cracked.

"Shut up!" The woman's grip on her shoulder tightened.

"She is right you know," the man began. "She couldn't have seen us."

"Are you willing to take that chance?!" the woman challenged him.

"No," he whispered dejectedly. Emma could feel the woman behind her stiffen and that was when she knew that she was going to die.

What happened next wasn't borne out of any conscious decision, rather out of the innate instinct to fight for her life until her last breath. Emma rammed her elbow backwards with all her strength. The woman let out a primal scream, at the same time as a shot exploded from the gun.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

oOo

"Would you stop that already?" Sergeant Wright admonished Will with a sharp glance. Will pulled back his hand guiltily, not realizing that he was drumming nervously on the dashboard. Forcing his hands to rest idly in his lap, Will focussed his attention on the streets flying by outside. The drive seemed to be taking forever, but he knew that was just his imagination, a result of being worried. He couldn't explain it, but he had just known that something was wrong when Emma hadn't shown up for work that morning. Of course, he'd tried to call her, both on her mobile and on landline, but he'd only gotten the mailbox and the answering machine respectively. He'd left messages, but to no avail. He'd even tried calling Matt, since after all, he and Emma lived under the same roof, but his efforts had yielded the same result. He would have understood if Emma chose to stay at home today, after what she had been through yesterday during that steaming attack on the bus. But she would have let her colleagues know and there was nothing to explain Matt's absence. Inspector Gold hadn't so much been worried as she had been annoyed when Emma had failed to show for her shift, but she had eventually agreed to have Will and Nikki drive by Emma and Matt's place, just to make sure that everything was in order. Will's mind came back to reality, when the car came to a sharp stop at the curb. Nikki got out, followed by Will. She walked up straight to the doorstep, ringing the doorbell. Will followed a few steps behind. He'd almost missed it, but when he walked past the window pointing to the street, he caught a glimpse of a scene that made his heart stop for a moment. He stopped to get a better look, hoping that he'd been mistaken, but it was all too true. Through the window, he could see Emma and Matt lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood, side by side, bodies still and eyes closed.

"Sarge!" Will forced out the word, unable to take his eyes off the bodies.

"What's going...? " Nikki broke up when she saw what he saw. "Oh God," she whispered, but she regain her composure a moment later and got on her radio.

"Break it down!" she yelled to Will, indicating the door. "They might still be alive." Will nodded, but he already knew they were dead; the blood on the tiled floor hadn't been fresh. They had to have been lying there for hours. Will swallowed hard and broke down the front door with a well-placed kick. Nikki, still talking on the radio, followed him inside. Will made his way to the kitchen. Seeing them up close was a hundred times worse. For the first time ever, the smell of blood and beginning decomposition made his stomach turn. Will swallowed convulsively, trying not to throw up. Like in trance, he watched Nikki kneel down next to the bodies. Her fingers went to Matt's throat. She only shook her head. Then she reached over to Emma, who was lying next to her dead husband. Her hand lingered. She frowned and tried again.

"She's alive, Will!" she exclaimed and got back on her radio, asking CAD to send an ambulance urgently.

oOo

By the time Sam and Mickey pulled up in front of Emma and Matt's home, a row of vehicles was already parked at the curb. The ambulance was long gone, the scene turned over to CSE. Uniform had cordoned off the entire property, keeping out the small group of curious onlookers that had gathered despite it being almost 10 a.m. on a weekday. Nikki came walking up to the two detectives as they got out of the car.

"How does it look?" Mickey asked, referring to Emma.

"They've taken her to St. Hugh's, but it doesn't look good. Will's gone with her, but I haven't heard anything from him yet." Nikki's appearance was professional as ever, but her voice betrayed her shock.

Mickey and Sam nodded.

"CSE's inside; she's waiting for you," Nikki told them. "We're going to talk to the neighbours next."

"Good, let is know as soon as you have something," Sam said. Mickey followed her as she ducked underneath the crime scene tape and entered the house. Lorna Hart greeted them in the hallway.

"We'll process the entire house, but from what it looks like, the main action was in the kitchen." She led the way to the kitchen.

The colours had been kept light. Light grey cabinets were a soft contrast to the white tile floor, making the blood stand out even more. There was a large pool of blood near the centre of the room, with a void where two bodies had been lying. Around it was a clutter of smears and bloody shoeprints. Remnants of medical supplies - wrappers, tubing and blood-stained tissue -were evidence of the life-saving efforts of the paramedics.

"The paramedics obviously disturbed the scene, but from what I can tell, all the shoeprints are theirs," Lorna explained, her voice soft, but dispassionate. Pointing to the fine blood spray on the cabinet door, she said, "Both the blood on the floor, as well as the spatter, is consistent with shots to the head at a very short distance."

"What about this?" Mickey indicated a small drop of blood near the counter, almost a meter from where Matt and Emma had lain bleeding.

"Well spotted, DC Webb," Lorna commended. "It's not consistent with the injuries I saw. It might be sign of a struggle prior to the shooting itself."

"A struggle with the killer?" Sam asked hopefully. The killer's DNA at the scene was worth a great deal in a murder inquiry.

"Possibly, but to me, this looks more like a murder-suicide than anything else, although there a few things that aren't entirely consistent with that hypothesis," Lorna admitted.

Sam and Mickey were stunned. "Who...?" Sam began. She knew, had known both of them, and she couldn't imagine either of them being this desperate.

"From the position of the bodies, it looks like Matt Hinckley was the shooter, but we'll know more once we've tested their hands for GSR," she told them.

"Thank you. Any idea yet when it happened?"

"Four to six hours ago." Lorna shrugged.

"I might be able to shed some light on that." The trio turned to see Nikki stand in the wide doorway leading to the kitchen.

"The neighbours heard a car pulling up around half past three this morning and heard it leave about half an hour later."

"No one heard the gunshots?" Mickey asked, surprised. This was a quiet residential neighbourhood. Someone had to have heard two people being gunned down. Nikki just shrugged. "Quite a few people are at work now, but we're tracking them down."

"Good, we need their statements as soon as possible. If we're lucky, somebody actually saw the car and can give us a description. There is no CCTV in this street, but if we get make and model, we might be able to check nearby traffic cameras."

"It might not be related," Sam considered.

"Would be an awfully big coincidence, though," Mickey said. "So you think it is a murder-suicide?"

Sam hesitated. "I think it's the most likely explanation. Otherwise, it looks almost like a professional hit. Think about it - there is no sign of a break-in, no obvious physical evidence or signs of a struggle and no one heard the shots."

"Silencer?" Mickey considered.

"That would point to a professional hit, but if it is, why would they bother with staging a murder-suicide," Sam questioned.

Mickey just shrugged. "I think we should head to St. Hugh's. See if there is any news." He tried to put a measure of optimism into his voice, but in truth, he didn't hold out much hope. It had been a miracle that Emma had still been alive when Nikki and Will had arrived. Even if she survived her injuries, it was highly unlikely that she would be able to give them a statement.

oOo

Will had never felt this tense in his entire life. He was nervous to the point of feeling nauseous. The hands of the clock on the opposite wall of the waiting room moved with an agonizing slowness, although part of Will was aware that no news was probably good news for the moment. A woman in scrubs entered the waiting area. Will tensed, but she turned to a woman with two small children on the other side of the room. Will watched them speak quietly for a moment, and then the woman began to sob. The news clearly hadn't been good. Will idly wondered who she was grieving for - a husband, a partner, a child? Will wondered whom he would be grieving for. A girlfriend - no. At one time maybe but he and Emma never really had been an item. The time had never been right and then there had been Matt. What about a colleague then? No, Emma was much more than that. A friend, yes, she was a friend, Will decided.

"Are you here for Emma Hinckley?" A nurse asked, shaking his mind from its musings. The tension was instantly back.

"Yes," he managed.

"She was very lucky. The bullet went clean through her skull, without penetrating the brain," the woman explained. Will had no idea how that was even possible, but for the moment, he didn't care. "Her condition, while serious, isn't life threatening."

"What does that mean?" Will asked, realizing he sounded stupid.

"Well, we've run several tests including an MRI, and while there is some swelling, there is no damage to the brain. This type of injury is very rare, but in most cases the patient recovers without lasting neurological damage," she explained patiently.

Relief flooded through him, but he forced himself to return to the job at hand. "I'll need her clothes, as well as the bullet."

"If you'll come with me, I'll give you her clothes. The bullet I can't give you, as I said, it has exited the skull," she explained, leading the way down a corridor. Indicating for him to wait, she disappeared into one of the rooms adjacent to the corridor. She emerged a few moments later, carrying a plastic bag containing Emma's blood-stained clothes. The sight of them prompted a new wave of nausea, but Will forced himself to remain focused. "When do you think she'll be able to make a statement?"

The woman shrugged. "I'm not sure how much she'll be able to tell you. She regained consciousness earlier, but she became very agitated and we had to sedate her. Still, she's awake at the moment, and although she should still be feeling the effects of the sedative, you can try to talk to her."

Will nodded.

"But tread carefully. If she gets agitated or upset, you need to leave."

Will nodded again.

"I'll show you to her room then."

oOo

Emma was awake and aware of where she was, but her mind was adrift. Sensations and thoughts came and went, but they all seemed very distant and unimportant at the moment. She knew she was in hospital and that there was probably something pretty seriously wrong with her, but she couldn't bring herself to care right now. She had been in a great deal of pain earlier, but the violent migraine had dimmed down to barely a whisper, allowing her to rest fairly comfortably and let the questions she had pass by idly, to be answered at some point in the future.

From where she was lying, she could see part of the door and watched as it opened. A woman in light blue scrubs was showing in a young man. The uniform immediately gave him away as a police officer. That explained his presence at the same time. She was certain that she didn't know him, but if she had been in some sort of accident, it made sense someone would be around to question her. An early statement was very important, especially when circumstances weren't clear; she had learned that during her training. Soon she would be the one taking statements at hospitals and accident scenes.

The officer hesitated for a moment, then he sat down. Emma shifted to face him. He seemed worried and somewhat ill at ease. Emma wondered if he was new to the job.

"Emma, how are you? I was so worried about you, but they said you were going to be okay," the officer said, a smile spreading over his face. Emma was puzzled; he was talking as if he knew her. Emma searched her memory and came to a disturbing conclusion. While she knew very well who she was, able to recall her family, friends and past, she couldn't recall ever having seen the young man before. And, more disturbingly, she wasn't sure why this hadn't bothered her before. She couldn't recall what had happened to put her in hospital. In fact, she had trouble dredging up any concrete events from her memory. It was all very fuzzy.

"Emma, are you okay?" The smile was gone from the officer's face.

"Who are you?" Emma asked feeling increasingly panicked. Her headache was beginning to return with a vengeance.

The young man's face froze for a moment, and then moved to display an expression of fear and shock.

"I think I better call the nurse," he whispered and reached for the call button. Once he'd pressed it, he got up, but didn't leave.

"Tell me, what's happening?" Emma pleaded, understanding less and less of what was happening around her. Her head ached violently now, the pain driving tears to her eyes. Her heart was pounding, and she struggled to get enough air into her lungs.

"Miss Hinckley! Miss Hinckley! Emma, look at me. Look at me!" A woman who appeared seemingly out of nowhere took hold of her hands, her face close to hers. Emma squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out a world that didn't make sense anymore.

"Deep breaths. Try to breathe deeply," the woman instructed, but Emma didn't care. She was too busy trying to get air into her lungs. The woman was saying more, but the sound of her voice was drowned out by the rushing sound that filled Emma's ears.

oOo

Will found himself waiting for news once again. The brief moments of relief, when he'd seen Emma alive and awake had been cruelly shattered. What if Emma lived, but the person he knew remained gone? How would he cope, he wondered, but pushed the thought aside a moment later, chastising himself for thinking so selfishly. Emma had been terrorized with fear, and he hadn't been able to help her. To her he had been a stranger and that hurt more than anything else - far more than Emma turning him down to marry Matt ever had. If he was honest, he hadn't stopped caring about her, even though he'd tried hard to resign himself to the fact that it was over between them. But just the other day, when he'd overheard that Matt's ex was still alive, he'd felt hope again, that maybe, one day, Emma would see Matt for whom he really was. Not that it mattered anymore. Matt was dead and even if Emma would recover, he was determined to let her grieve for her husband. He hadn't spoken up the other day and now it was too late. He'd have to live with that.

Will looked up at the wall clock, when he saw two people, an unfamiliar man and the woman he'd spoken to earlier, approach him. He got to his feet.

"How is she? Is she going to be all right?" The words tumbled from his mouth.

The man put up a hand to halt the flow of questions. "We still have a few tests we'd like to run, but as we'd thought earlier, there is no injury to the brain itself. Miss Hinckley does suffer from retrograde amnesia, meaning she cannot remember what happened before she was shot. From what I could tell when I spoke to her, the memory loss seems to concern a period of roughly four years. The reason for her amnesia might be organic, as there is some tissue swelling, but given the highly traumatic nature of her injury, it might as well be partly psychological," the doctor explained.

"Will she get her memory back?" Will managed to ask, pushing aside the myriad of thoughts and feelings that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Impossible to say. Once the swelling goes down, there might as well be a significant improvement to her memory. But I wouldn't hold out too much hope. It's highly unlikely that she'll ever be able to tell you what happened," the woman explained. Will realized that they had to assume that to him, Emma was just another victim and he a police officer trying to get a statement.

"She needs rest first of all at the moment. Visitors will be limited to her immediate family. In a few days, you might be able to try questioning her again, but not sooner."

Will nodded. He hadn't even thought of Emma's family yet. "I'll make sure that they are notified," he said, secretly hoping that someone else had made the call already.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

oOo

It was late, and CID was deserted, except for Mickey and Sam.

"You're here late." It was a statement, not a question.

"Gov," Mickey looked up from the file he was reading. Jack didn't seem surprise to find them still working. Time was of the essence in a murder investigation and neither of the detectives was ready to go home without uncovering at least one lead.

"Anything yet?" Jack asked.

"Not much, guv," Sam replied. It was an overstatement, Mickey thought. They had nothing to be exact. Twelve hours had passed without any concrete leads. "Uniform has finished questioning the neighbours, but while a few said they heard a car pulling up, times vary and no one actually saw the car or the occupants. We still don't know if it's related at all. No one actually heard the gunshots, and we haven't heard back yet from the medical examiner about TOD."

"That's not much," Jack said, arms crossed in front of his chest.

There was a knock at the door and Lorna Hart poked her head in. "Oh good, you're still here." She slipped inside the CID office. "I figure you'd want to know right away," she began, "that it's definitely not a murder-suicide."

"What have you found exactly?" Jack asked, taking charge of the conversation. Mickey could tell that while he and Sam were tasked with the investigation, Jack would be keeping a close eye on them and not because he doubted their abilities. They were talking about people they worked with every day, people who stood on the same side. That made it personal for all if them.

"We tested Matt's hands and clothes for GSR and the test came back negative. We've also found the blood of a third person at the scene. We haven't been able to identify the source, but DNA tells us that it's from a woman."

Mickey raised an eyebrow in surprise. This didn't look like the sort of crime that was normally committed by a woman.

"What about the gun?" Jack asked.

"The gun we found was a .45 and it matches the bullets we've recovered -one from the body, the other from the kitchen wall. It's not conclusive, but there are markings on the bullets that suggest a silencer was used."

"That sounds professional," Jack put into words what Mickey had thought at the scene earlier that day.

"Yeah, but how many female hit men have you come across?" Sam asked sceptically.

"Good point," Jack agreed. "Go home, it's late. But tomorrow, I want you to look at every case Emma and Matt handled recently. Anyone who might be holding a grudge. Check for prison releases; maybe someone has a score to settle," Jack advised. They all knew that they didn't always make friends in their job, but for someone to hire a hit man, it took a very serious motive.

oOo

It was early the next morning when Sam entered the CID office, cup of coffee in hand. She was surprised to see that Mickey was already at his desk, talking to someone on the phone.

"But you don't have an address?" he was just asking. He listened for a moment. "I understand," he said. "Thank you very much for your help," he said, then hung up.

"Morning, Sam." he greeted her.

"What are you working on?" Sam walked over to him.

"I found out something pretty interesting. Not sure if it's lead or not, but I thought I'd look into it."

"What is it?" He'd gotten her attention.

"I met Will in the parking lot this morning and he told me about the woman Matt was with before he met Emma. Apparently, he always claimed that she was dead, but in reality she is still alive."

"So?" Sam wasn't very impressed.

"Well, the thing is, she was in and out of psychiatric institutions, until she completely dropped off the radar about a month ago."

Sam sat down on the edge of Mickey's desk. "Maybe he's just been ashamed of her and that's why he pretended she was dead rather than admit that she just had mental problems."

"Maybe," Mickey admitted, but he didn't sound convinced.

"You never did like him, did you?" Sam asked, referring to Matt.

"Admittedly, no. But that's not the issue. I think we should talk to her, find out her side of the story. We have nothing else to go on, unless you want to start calling up villains."

Sam nodded. "I agree, it won't hurt to talk to her. It was a woman's blood at the scene after all."

"Not to get ahead of ourselves, but the killer being someone at least one of them knows would explain why there was no sign of a break-in," Mickey said. He had obviously given the issue some thought.

Sam had to admit that he had a point there.

oOo

Will was feeling more than a little apprehensive as he made his way to the fourth floor where Emma's room was located. He wasn't there for a social call; instead, it was his turn to stand guard in front of her room, making sure that the killer didn't get a chance to strike again. He waved to Roger, who had taken the night shift.

"I'll just be a moment," he told the older officer. "I just want to say hello to Emma first."

Roger nodded.

Will pushed open the door. Emma was lying in bed, her back turned towards him.

"Emma?" he asked softly, in case she was asleep. He got no reaction. Carefully, he walked around the bed. He was relieved to see that her eyes were open and reacting to him stepping into her field of vision.

"Emma, are you okay?" he asked.

"Please, I want to be alone," she told him.

"All right," he tried to hide his disappointment. "I'll be outside." He left the room and closed the door behind him.

"And?" Roger asked.

Will shrugged, not sure what to say. "She wants to be alone."

"Understandable. To her we're all a bunch of strangers."

The words were neutral, but still hit Will like the punch of a fist to the gut. She didn't know him anymore and to tell the truth, he didn't know her either.

oOo

Emma heard the door open, but didn't bother turning around. It was probably just one of the nurses coming to check on her, like they seemed to do far too frequently for her taste. Emma already had had enough of the hospital. Although she was a bit unsteady on her legs, she didn't really feel sick enough to be in hospital. The painkillers controlled her violent headache just fine, and as a bonus, they made it easy to stay afloat, to drift along without thinking too much. Thinking was the one thing she was desperately trying to avoid. The thought that there was someone out there who would shoot her in the head and leave her for dead scared her more than she could put into words. She knew there was a police guard station outside her door at all times, but it didn't alleviate the fear that had settled deep in her bones, never leaving her even for an instant. Her father hadn't wanted to tell her what had happened at first, and had only relented when she'd insisted, but now she wished she had never asked. He'd told her some other things, mainly harmless news regarding various family members, but the truth was that she didn't want to know. She didn't want to know anything about the life in which she'd been shot in the head inside her own home. Aside from the physical injuries, it was as if it had happened to a completely different person and she was desperate not to get to know that person.

"Emma?" A female voice asked from behind. Emma ignored her. She didn't recognize the voice and she wasn't eager to meet anyone who had been erased from her memory along with the past four years.

Predictably, her silence was followed by footfalls and a woman in light blue scrubs moved in her field of vision, obstructing her view of the hospital parking lot. Emma risked a glance at the woman's face, but as she had expected, she couldn't recall her. The only things that prompted Emma's gaze to linger were her reddened eyes and nose, and the drying tracks of tears across her cheeks. Why would a nurse by crying, Emma wondered, but she couldn't work up the energy to ask. The nurse moved over to the side of her head. She pulled out a syringe and began injecting its contents into the IV line that was running into the back of Emma's hand. Her head had to be getting better, Emma mused. The last few times a nurse had come by to give her another dose of painkiller, she'd already been suffering an aggressive headache. Or maybe the nurse was just early. Emma didn't know and didn't really care. She felt the familiar warm rush of the drugs entering her veins. Her eyes were drifting shut when there was a loud bang. Emma startled, her eyes flying open in panic.

"Drop the syringe," a male voice demanded. Emma wanted to turn around to see what was going on, but her body wouldn't obey anymore.

"I said drop it!" Something clattered to the floor. A rush of footfalls followed.

"What did you give her?" a woman demanded in an alarmed voice.

"Is she going to be all right?" Emma heard ananxious voice ask, her hearing already starting to fade. The last thing she heard was someone calling her name.

oOo

"What the hell happened?" the DCI thundered as soon as he was in Will's hearing range. Will quickly got to his feet.

"Sir, a woman, she was posing as a nurse, tried to kill PC Hinckley."

"That much I know. What I want to know is how that could happen?!"

Will wasn't sure if it was a rhetorical question. There didn't seem to be a good answer anyways. Before she could decide whether or not to continue, the DCI went on. "How is PC Hinckley?"

"They've given her some sort of antidote to the drug she's been given and she should be fine." Will's word couldn't mirror the relief he'd felt when Emma's doctor had given him the good news. He would never have forgiven him if she had gotten killed on his watch.

"What about the other woman?" Jack asked impatiently.

"PC Casper and Sergeant Wright are taking her back to the station now. She became hysterical when I arrested her and so far we don't know anything about her," Will admitted dejectedly. He felt like he had failed utterly. If it hadn't been for a real nurse showing up seconds after the killer had entered Emma's room, she would be dead right now and it would be his fault.

"Go to the security office and help DC Webb with the CCTV," Jack ordered.

"Yes, sir," Will replied stiffly and started heading down the corridor towards the elevator.

"I want your report before you head home tonight," Jack called after him. Will checked his watch. It was going to be a long night for him, but at least the work would keep his thought off Emma.

oOo

The woman had been so hysterical that Nikki and Dan had been unable to book her. They had ended up taking her to the FME, not knowing what else to do with the hysterically sobbing woman. The medic had been able to calm her down and an hour later, he'd given them the green light to interview her.

Now she was sitting across the table from Mickey and Sam, plucking a tissue into small pieces.

"Let's start with something simple, all right?" Sam began in a gentle voice. "Tell us your name."

The woman only shook her head, more tears sliding down her face.

"You have to tell us your name. You're only making things worse by not talking to us," Mickey informed her. She remained silent.

"Do you know you have the right to a solicitor? We can call a duty solicitor for you, if you want to discuss your situation with someone else before talking to us," Sam told her. Although Will had cautioned her at the time of her arrest, she had been so hysterical, it had bee impossible to tell if she had understood. The woman didn't react.

"Is there someone we should call for you, to let them know where you are?" Mickey tried.

The woman shook her head, crying silently.

"Listen, this isn't going to help," Sam said, her voice much harsher now. "You were caught trying to kill a police officer with an overdose of a drug called tramadol. We have your fingerprints as well as two witnesses, one of them a police officer. You are going down, whether you talk to us or not."

The woman remained impassive, only moving to wipe the tears from her swollen face.

"Not only that," Sam went on,"but the police officer you tried to kill, her husband was murdered yesterday night. She survived by a miracle. We think you were there that night. We'll know for sure in a matter of hours. That blood sample the FME took from you, it's being compared to blood from the crime scene right now and that will tell us whether you were there or not."

No reaction. Mickey could tell that Sam was getting frustrated. Mickey thought back to what Will had told him earlier that morning.

"Nina Lloyd," Mickey tried, recalling his research earlier that morning. He hadn't yet managed to locate the woman, but maybe she was sitting across the table from him right now.

The look in her eyes told him that he'd been right. "Nina, can you state your name and address for the tape please," he asked her, keeping his voice gentle. Nina Lloyd had a long history of mental illness and she seemed fragile enough already without them putting her under any more pressure.

In a halting voice, Nina gave her name and address, but it was all she said for the next two hours, despite Sam and Mickey's best efforts.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

oOo

A new day was dawning over Sun Hill and for once Mickey Webb was at work early. The night had been rather short. He and Sam, accompanied by some members of uniform had been searching Nina Lloyd's flat until late in the night. At least their efforts had paid off. Hidden underneath a loose floor board they had found a .45 mm gun, along with a silencer. The crime lab had promised to put a rush on it, but Mickey doubted that they had gotten around to comparing test fired bullets from the gun with the bullets recovered at the scene yet.

"Morning, Mickey." Mickey looked up to see Sam enter the CID office, a manila folder in hand. She looked as beat as he felt. "Just got this," she said, putting the folder down on his desk. Mickey looked at her questioningly.

"Ballistics report," Sam explained. "The gun's a match. No prints, though," she succinctly summed up the report.

"Then we can put this to bed," Mickey said, unable to keep the apprehension out of his voice.

"Something bothering you?"

"I'm not sure what isn't bothering me," he admitted. "It all seems a little too perfect."

"Well, we don't have a confession," Sam reminded him.

"But do we really need one?" Mickey argued.

"What is your point?" Sam sounded annoyed, probably a result of getting too little sleep.

"I just don't think Nina is capable of it. At least not on her own. I mean, you have seen her and you heard what Dan and Nikki said. She was hysterical, they barely managed to get her in the car! And Will said she was crying while she tried to kill Emma - like she couldn't bring herself to do it."

"So, you're saying she has been framed?"

"Not necessarily. I think she might as well have been in on it. Think about the crime scene. There was no sign of a break-in. Matt or Emma must have opened the door and they wouldn't have let anyone in the middle of the night unless they knew and trusted the person."

"Or someone forced their way in with a gun." Sam considered, warming up to Mickey's train of thought.

"Still, they would have to open the door first."

"Right. So Nina rings the doorbell. It's probably Matt who opens the door. Maybe he lets her in, maybe she or someone else pulls a gun on him. They go inside. At some point, Matt and Emma are shot. Half an hour later, they leave."

"You know what? Jack's not going to be pleased about this." Sam said with a sigh.

"What am I not going to be pleased about?" a voice asked from behind them. They both turned around and saw the DCI standing in the doorway to the CID office.

Mickey quickly summed up their concerns.

"All right, go back and talk to Nina again. If she still doesn't give up anything, dig into her background. Talk to her family, friends, neighbours, doctor, anyone who's recently had contact with her," Jack told them, not sounding angry at all. "I want you to be thorough. We need to make this stick 100. I will not have this case fall apart in court because we didn't do our job right."

"Yes, guv," Sam and Mickey replied in unison.

"If you need anyone else, borrow someone from uniform to help you. I'll clear it with Inspector Gold."

They both nodded.

"One more thing, Matt Hinckley's funeral is this afternoon. I want you both to be there and keep an eye out for anyone acting suspiciously," Jack told them.

"Is PC Hinckley going to attend as well?" Mickey asked. "If we're right and Nina's got an accomplice, then she might still be in danger."

"Good thinking. I hadn't considered that. I'd imagine she'd want to be there," Jack said, then paused, "Since you're already pretty busy, I'll ask uniform to take care of the necessary precautions for her safety. I'll have them inform you though, so you're in the loop."

"That would be good," Sam confirmed. "I think someone needs to inform her of the latest developments as well. It might help put her mind at ease."

"I've already spoken to her father last night to let him know that we've made the arrest." Jack winced slightly at the statement, probably not relishing the prospect of having to call up the other detective again to let him know that they hadn't been so successful after all.

oOo

Sam and Mickey entered the custody area to find Nikki on duty.

"There you are!" she exclaimed in lieu of a greeting.

"Nina give you a hard time?" Mickey asked, recalling how relieved Dan and Nikki had been to get rid of the woman.

"I didn't think one woman could make that much noise. She just wouldn't calm down, or tell me what the problem was. I had to call in the FME again, I was afraid she'd hurt herself. He gave her something to calm down and she's been quiet ever since. I checked on her about an hour ago and she was still asleep," Nikki related the events of the night.

"I think we need to get on to her doctors, find out how serious her problems really are."

"I don't think it's an act," Nikki told them, "But I guess you came to see her anyways?"

"Yes, we are going to have another go at her," Sam confirmed. Nikki walked out from behind the desk and led the way to the cells.

She unlocked Nina's cell. Nina was curled up on the bunk, seemingly asleep.

"Ms Lloyd? The detectives want to talk to you again," Nikki called out. Nina didn't react, didn't even move.

"Nina, are you all right?" Nikki asked.

"I'll have a look," Sam said and entered the cell, while Mickey and Nikki remained standing in the doorframe.

"Nina! We need to have another word," Sam called out. She shook the woman by the shoulder. Nina remained still. Mickey and Nikki shared an alarmed look.

"Call the FME!" Sam yelled, her hand resting on Nina's wrist

"I'll get him," Nikki said and hurried away.

"What's wrong with her?" Mickey asked, unable to hide his concern.

"I don't know, she's running a high fever and her pulse is pretty faint. I don't think it looks good," Sam replied, the expression on her face grave. A death in custody was a serious matter. People all the way down from the top would be looking for someone to blame and the DPS would be all over everyone who'd had the slightest contact with the suspect. Their murder investigation would grind to a halt should she not make it.

oOo

The FME had taken one look at Nina and decided that she needed to go to hospital. Since Sam and Mickey had more than enough to do before the funeral in the afternoon, Nikki, who seemed to genuinely feel bad for having a prisoner fall ill on her watch, had accompanied Nina to St. Hugh's. The young woman was still a prisoner, and although she appeared very ill, there was still a chance, she'd use the opportunity to escape. She was after all charged with murder and attempted murder - a strong motivation to abscond from custody.

While Nikki was waiting for word on Nina, Mickey had decided to pay Emma a visit. It was mostly intended as a social call - to see how she was doing and to let her know how the investigation was progressing. As a police officer she of course knew how the system worked, but she was after all a victim in this and some reassurance couldn't hurt, Mickey thought.

There was no officer standing guard anymore. They had been withdrawn after Nina's arrest. For a moment, Mickey wondered if that had been such a wise decision, in light of what they had now come to believe about Matt's murder. He made a mental note to talk to Jack about it and knocked against the door. There was no answer. He hesitated, but entered anyways, intent on at least delivering the overpriced flowers he'd bought from the shop.

Emma was lying in bed on her side, her back facing towards the door.

"Emma?" Mickey asked.

"Go away." Mickey was taken aback. That wasn't the response he'd expected. He knew she was suffering from amnesia and probably didn't remember ever meeting him, but he still hadn't expected to find her in this frame of mind.

Not even trying to smile, Mickey walked around the foot of the bed. If she didn't want a social call, he was going to make it official.

"Emma, I'm DC Mickey Webb." It felt weird to be introducing himself to Emma as he had, while not very well, known her for several years.

The scowl firmly in place on Emma's bruised face softened.

"I'm one of the detectives working on your case," he explained further. Emma's expression softened again.

Mickey took it as an invitation to sit down.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything. I don't remember anything about that night." Emma told him, the statement sounding rehearsed.

"I know," Mickey replied softly. he hadn't expected anything else. "I just came to fill you in on what's been happening in the investigation. I thought you'd might want to know."

"Not particularly, no," Emma said abruptly, "It doesn't matter if you catch them, does it?"

It wasn't the attitude Mickey expected from anyone in law enforcement. They had to believe that what they did, what they risked their lives for mattered. He didn't say anything though. Considering what Emma had been through, it was only to be expected that she wasn't her usual self.

"Maybe it doesn't matter to you, but it does to a lot of people who care about you and Matt. I'd imagine it matters to your father," Mickey ventured carefully.

"It probably does," Emma agreed and for a moment, Mickey thought he could detect interest on her face. The expression was gone in a flash however, hidden underneath a mask of anger and hurt.

"Emma, there are a lot of people who care about you and are worried about you," he reminded her, "I'm sure many of them will want to visit you once you're better."

"Well, you can tell them that I don't want to see them," Emma snapped. Mickey fought to retain his composure. "I don't want to see anyone. I'm not who they think I am. I can't even remember them!" Emma's voice broke. "The woman yesterday could just as well have killed me, the Emma Keane you all know is dead anyways!"

"You don't mean that," Mickey countered softly, but even he couldn't hide entirely that her words had hurt. But he understood all too well, he'd believed the same thing about his life at one point.

Emma nodded, but he could see tears in her eyes. He would have asked her if she was all right, fairly certain that she was in a lot of pain, but he was sure that she wouldn't welcome the caring words. He got up from the small plastic chair. He would tell the nurse to check on Emma later. For the moment, the best he could do for her was leave her be, he decided. He was about to head for the door, when he remembered something.

"There is one other thing. Your father's probably mentioned it to you already, but we just wanted to let you know that Matt's funeral is this afternoon."

Emma studied him for a moment before she spoke. "I didn't know. My father didn't say anything." She sounded pensive, the anger and hurt from earlier completely gone from her voice.

"Well, if you want to and if your doctors allow it of course, I can arrange for someone to take you there."

There was another pause. Emma looked him in the eye. "I don't think I can do that. Not yet." He believed her.

"If you change your mind, give me a call." he handed her a card with his mobile phone number.

"I will." She put the card on the bedside table and let herself sink back into the pillows, closing her eyes. Mickey took that as his cue to leave.

oOo

Emma had just wanted to keep her eyes closed for a second, just until her headache dropped down to more bearable levels, but by the time she opened them again, the chair at the side of her bed was once again occupied. Although she didn't remember him, the young officer was almost a familiar face by now. he dropped by every so often, usually just to ask her how she was doing. She hadn't exactly welcomed him then and after the detectives visit she still felt quite exhausted, but the look on his face - a combination of worry and hope, made it hard for her to send him away again. She hadn't wanted to hear it at the time and the thought was still a little bit too much for her to entertain, but Mickey had been right there were a lot of people who obviously cared about her. Why else would the officer be coming by so frequently?

"Mickey said it might not be a good time and if you want me to leave, I'll go," he began.

"I think I want to be alone right now," Emma said honestly. Her head ached badly and her thoughts were still turning in circles around what the detective had said.

"Okay, I understand, I really do." The hurt on his face betrayed the neutrality of his words. "I just wanted to bring you some things." He produced a plastic bag that had been resting besides his chair. "Just some clothes, and some other things you might need if you have to stay here for a while."

He put the bag on her bed, within Emma's reach. Emma didn't move. It was a well meant gesture, but she couldn't accept. She wasn't the woman those clothes belonged to, not anymore, no matter what everyone told her.

"Emma, is something wrong?" The concerned voice of the young man brought her back to reality.

"I know you mean well, but you don't need to do this. You don't need to bother. I'm not the person you knew." Emma shook her head, regretting the gesture instantly as her headache intensified. "She's not coming back. She's dead."

There was silence between them.

"You don't know that," the young man whose name Emma kept forgetting, whispered, "I spoke to your doctors, they said you might get some of your memory back in time."

"So that I can remember a person someone hates enough to shoot in the head? No thanks!" Emma hadn't meant to say it, but she felt powerless against the wave of anger that suddenly welled up inside of her and she couldn't stop tears from filling her eyes. Since she'd been shot, her emotions were all over the place. Emma started to cry, unable to hold back the tears. She turned away from her visitor, not wanting to show weakness.

"Please go," she managed.

But he didn't leave, instead he reached out and pulled her into a hug. Emma wanted to pull back, but there was suddenly something familiar about the young man. She couldn't even recall his name, but the gesture of human touch, connected with something running much deeper than the memories that had been erased.

But suddenly, he pushed her away. Emma stared at him, lost for words. He almost jumped up from the chair. his face burning red with what Emma could only presume was guilt or shame.

"I'm so, so sorry Emma. I never should have. I'm sorry," he babbled, fleeing from the room

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

oOo

Emma had been staring at the plastic bag lying on her bed for the past ten minutes. Once she'd recovered from the shock of the young man running out on her so suddenly, she'd realized he'd forgotten, maybe deliberately, to take the bag with him. It was a generic plastic bag from some supermarket chain. Emma took a deep breath and reached out, anxious of what she was going to find inside. It was ridiculous, she told herself. It was just a bunch of clothes, nothing more. She really was itching to exchange her hospital issue gown with something a little more comfortable. Emma finally opened the bag with trembling hands. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but she still let out a sigh of relief when all she found were some neatly folded clothes that looked like something she might actually wear. The items were comfortable-looking basics that could probably be found in the wardrobe of most women her age. Still, they weren't hers. They belonged to the other woman, the one everyone saw when they looked at her. Emma shook her head. This was wrong, she thought. Still, she re-folded the clothes and stacked them in the drawer of the nightstand, as if filing the thought away for later.

Exhausted from the effort, she sank back into the pillows. There were so many unanswered questions on her mind, questions part of her desperately wanted answered, but another part of her was afraid of what she might learn. She wasn't sure she wanted to get to know PC Emma Hinckley and her life. The life in which someone hated her enough to shoot her in the head inside her own home - that was the thought that wouldn't leave her alone. Just what had she done for someone to hate her this much?

She normally got along fine with everybody, even people she didn't particularly like. She never had had an outright enemy in her life. But that had clearly changed, she thought sorrowfully. The more thoughts turned round and round in her head, the more she realized that she needed answers. She now regretted having pushed away Mickey and the other man. She still wasn't sure she was ready to deal with Emma Hinckley's life, but she was determined to try. If the two men knew it or not, they had stirred something inside of her.

oOo

Mickey found Nikki sitting in the waiting room where he'd left her earlier. She had her head resting on her hands, elbows on her knees. When Mickey approached, she looked up. The expression on her face told Mickey that the news wasn't good.

"What's happening?" Mickey asked, keeping his voice light.

"Nina's got meningitis. It doesn't look too good. She's been taken to ICU." Nikki gave him a quick summary of what she'd been told. "Apparently, if she'd been brought in last night, it would be a different story," she added, her voice filled with regret.

"It's not your fault, you know that. Sam and I interviewed her and we never thought of it. She didn't even complain of a headache, we all thought she was just freaking out because she'd been arrested. Even the FME missed it." Mickey tried to appease her concerns. But despite his words, he knew that there would be blame cast around and that Nikki would probably be right in the center of it.

"You should go home and get some rest," he told her. "I'll stay here until they can send someone else," he offered.

Nikki nodded gratefully.

oOo

Two hours later, Emma felt exhausted but immeasurably better. She had been reluctant to accept the help, but with the aid of a nurse she had managed to take a shower. She hadn't been able to wash her air because of the bandages, but she'd pulled it back in a pony-tail. She had gotten quite a shock when she'd looked in the mirror. It wasn't so much that she had aged four years. If those years had taken their toll on her appearance, it was hidden beneath all the bruising and swelling that had resulted from the injury. It had taken her considerable time, but she had managed to get dressed on her own, putting on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. It had felt odd at first, to be wearing clothes that were both hers and not hers, but she already felt much healthier out of the hospital gown. Physical needs all taken care of Emma leaned back against the elevated head end of the bed, willing herself to relax. It was easier said then done. Her body was quite content to rest, but her mind was racing. Now that she had gotten showered and dressed, the thought of going to her husband's funeral didn't seem so far out anymore. Apparently her doctor had called in sick today, but the physician covering for her had, albeit reluctantly, given her permission to attend the funeral, if she felt she needed to. Emma had gotten the impression that she didn't think it was a particularly good idea, but she probably felt sorry for Emma as a grieving wife and wasn't about to deny her paying her last respects to her murdered husband. She hadn't been able to reach the detective on his mobile, but Dr. Allen had offered to call her a cab. Emma felt a bit guilty profiting from her sympathy, but going to the funeral was the right thing, or so she told herself. She didn't know if people expected her to attend. Her father clearly didn't, he hadn't even mentioned the funeral. Emma also wondered who had made the arrangements so quickly. Maybe Matt's family, if he had any, had taken care of it. There was so much she didn't know, she realized and it frightened her. She had wanted to think that Emma Hinckley, police constable and wife of Matt Hinckley was dead, gone from her memory forever, but when the young officer had hugged her, she had felt something, a stirring of memory. Nothing she could put into words, but something had been there and it wouldn't leave her alone, despite her fears about what she might learn.

oOo

It was a cool, slightly windy day. Emma glanced up at the lead coloured sky, realizing that she didn't even know what time of the year it was. Spring, Emma decided, looking at the shrubs planted beside the walkway leading away from the hospital entrance. At first she had protested, but now she was almost glad that Dr. Allen had insisted on a wheelchair. Showering and getting dressed had taken more out of her than she'd expected and she was quite relieved that one of the nurses was pushing her wheelchair towards the taxi stand.

"Hi Rick!" the nurse called out. A dark-haired man leaning against one of the cabs looked up and waved at them. "Got someone for you here." They came to a halt at the curb. If the driver was bothered by how her face looked, he didn't show it.

"Whereabouts can I take you?" he asked with a smile.

"Oak Pines cemetery," the nurse replied in her place.

"No problem," the driver replied. He opened the back door of the cab and pushed the wheelchair parallel to the seat inside.

"No, no. Thanks, but I can manage," Emma told him quickly when she realized he was preparing to lift her inside. It took her longer than it would have taken him, but she managed to get inside on her own. She leaned against the back of the seat, already feeling tired. She watched the nurse fold up the wheelchair. The driver stowed it in the boot before she could protest that she wouldn't need it. The driver bid good-bye to the nurse, who reminded Emma to make sure she took her medication if her headache got any worse and to return before the end of visiting hours. Emma promised she would and soon the cab joined the busy London traffic.

oOo

Will didn't go to the funeral. He had never liked Matt, on the contrary, and there was no shortage of people willing to change shifts with him so that they could pay their last respects. But mostly, he didn't want to run into Emma. Chances were she wasn't going to be there, but he didn't want to risk it. He'd gone over what had happened in Emma's hospital room a million times in his mind, and had realized that it wasn't so much what he'd done that bothered him, it was what he'd been thinking that caused him intense guilt. He'd been thinking of Emma and him together, when she'd just lost her husband and didn't even know who he was anymore. He'd just gotten carried away with wishful thinking. That wasn't going to happen again, he decided. He'd stay well away from Emma for the moment. She'd been pretty clear that she didn't want to see him anyways.

"Are you going to tell me what the long face's about or do you want me to guess?" Leela who was walking back to the car next to him asked, interrupting his sombre thoughts.

"I'm worried about Emma. I..." he hesitated.

"I thought she was going to be all right. And you even arrested the woman who tried to kill her at the hospital."

"I know, I know. It's just that I think I overstepped the mark when I saw her today. I mean to her I'm a total stranger..." Will trailed off, not certain how to put it.

"...and she's just lost her husband," Leela concluded. "Have you apologized?"

Will shrugged. "Not yet. I'm trying to figure out what to say," he lied. The truth was he had simply planned on avoiding Emma for the moment. "I think I should maybe just let things rest, you know. Wait for her to get better," he said, thinking out loud. Leela looked at him sharply. "I can only tell you one thing - apologize to her and do it soon. With any luck nothing happens and we'll be off shift in an hour."

"Yeah, I probably should." Will was dreading the idea, but he knew Leela was right.

They had almost reached the car when Leela's radio crackled to life. She had clearly spoken too soon. A report of a man setting fire to a car near their location had just come in. Leela asked for details, but the call had been anonymous and none were available. She confirmed that they would deal with the matter.

They started making their way back the direction they had come from, towards the Markham industrial estate. They didn't have to go far before they saw the plume of smoke rising behind one of the warehouses. They sped up their pace while Will requested the fire brigade.

oOo

There wasn't much that they could do. While waiting for the fire brigade to do their job, Leela radioed the station and asked them to do a check on the registration of the car in order to find out if it had been stolen, which was most likely the case, Will thought, but nothing had been reported yet. The registered owner was a local cab company called Harry's Taxis, located not far from where the car had been torched. CAD had just given them the address of the cab company when the fire chief came walking over to them.

"Officers, I think there is something you should see." Leela and Will followed him to the car. The fire had been extinguished, but the car was almost completely burned out.

"We popped the boot, just in case," the fire chief explained, as Will and Leela saw for themselves why he'd called them. Inside the boot and hidden beneath a blanket was a body. It was that of a dark haired man, maybe forty years old. He was curled on his side, blood visible on his neck and the back of his shirt. Curiously, there was a wheelchair stuffed inside the boot next to the body.

Will suppressed a sigh as Leela got back on her radio to inform CID and request CSE. He would never make it to St. Hugh's before the end of visiting hours. His apology to Emma would have to wait.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

oOo

"So, what's your take on this?" Stuart asked Jo as they stepped out of the offices of Harry's Taxis.

"Robbery, maybe." Jo shrugged. To tell the truth she wasn't sure what to think. The case certainly wasn't the oddest she'd ever handled, but there were a few things about it that made her wonder if this really was as straight forward as it appeared at first glance.

"Yeah, certainly looks like it," Stuart agreed, although she could tell from his voice that he had doubts as well. "I wonder how it went down exactly. And where it went down for that matter. He must have gotten from St. Hugh's to the estate somehow."

"I think we need to start by tracing his movements," Jo agreed. It was going to be a lot of work, since according to his call-log at the office, Richard Tucker had been in his usual spot at the taxi stand of St. Hugh's Hospital the entire afternoon, without picking up a single fare. Somehow, he and his car had ended up at the industrial estate, where he'd been found in the boot of his torched car just after 5 p.m. Will and Leela had had a look around the estate, but so far no witnesses had turned up. Jo was just going to suggest that they drop by the victim's home next when Stuart's phone rang.

"Yes," Stuart answered the phone. He listened, his face growing serious.

"When?" His voice was tense, as he listened to the reply.

"We'll be there right away." Stuart ended the call.

"Emma's disappeared from hospital," he told Jo before she had a chance to ask. "Barton Street is taking over our case here." Stuart opened the car door and got in. Jo followed him.

"Where are we going?" Jo asked as she buckled up.

Stuart started the car. "St. Hugh's." They pulled away from the curb, joining the busy traffic.

"Since when has she been missing?" Jo asked, her mind already going through possible scenarios.

"No one knows. The night shift came on at seven and noticed she wasn't in her room. They can't find her anywhere, so they called the station."

Jo nodded. Normally they wouldn't just drop a murder case on their patch, but there was little doubt in anyone's mind that Emma's disappearance was linked the Matt's murder and the attempt on her life the previous day. Time was of the essence.

oOo

Emma was desperately trying not to throw up. Doing so would almost certainly cause her to choke to death. She tried once again to dislodge the tape covering her mouth, but her kidnappers had been smart. They'd wrapped the tape all the way around her head, making it almost impossible to remove without the benefits of her hands, which were securily tied behind her back at the moment.

Deep breaths, deep breaths, Emma told herself, inhaling deeply through her nose. Her stomach was churning and she felt bile rise in her throat. Emma swallowed hard, closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. She wouldn't throw up, she told herself firmly. She was going to get out of this and she was going to be fine. She repeated the phrase like a mantra - turning it over and over in her mind. Eventually what seemed like hours later, but had probably only been minutes, the urge the vomit lessened slightly and she was able to turn her attention back to her surroundings.

Not that she could see very much. Most of her field of vision was taken up by a white, slightly mouldy ceiling. Turning her head upwards to the left, she could see an opaque window. A possible point of escape she noticed, but inaccessible at the moment.

The bonds around her hands and feet were still solidly wrapped with packaging tape. She shifted, trying to take some weight off her wrists which had been tied in an uncomfortable position behind her back. It took a bit of wriggling, but Emma eventually managed to reposition her body and come to a rest half-way on her side. Not only took that position the strain off her arms, but she was also able to see the door now. Like the ceiling, it was covered in peeling paint. Old, she thought, an abandoned house maybe. Emma cast her mind back, going over what she knew. One minute she'd been in the cab, dozing off, only to wake up bound and gagged in an empty bathtub. She had no idea how long she'd been out. It had to have been several hours at the least as she could tell that it was dark already. The pain in her head was intense, but she couldn't tell if it was due to her existing injury of if her kidnapers had knocked her out. Suddenly, there was a slapping sound from beyond the bathroom door. Emma listened closely, and soon could make out two voices.

"You're crazy! I knew I never should have agreed to do this."

"If i recall right, you were pretty keen on the whole thing. Anyways, it's too late too back out now!"

The voices were familiar, but she couldn't place them no matter how hard she tried. Once again she wondered what she had done for someone to try so hard to get rid of her.

"Get it done," the woman ordered. "Dump her in the river somewhere."

A chill ran down Emma's spine. They were going to kill her. There was no doubt about it.

"Where are you going?"

"Working on our exit strategy." The door slammed shut.

Emma tucked against her bonds once again, but there was not the slightest chance of escape. She was going to die. Tears began rolling down her face and she didn't even try to stop them. It didn't matter anymore.

oOo

Stuart and Jo arrived at the hospital in record time. Nikki was waiting for them at the nurses' station.

"What's the latest?" Stuart asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

"We're still trying to track down everyone who was on shift this afternoon. Her doctor, Dr. Daniels is waiting for you in the security office. I figured you'd want to talk to her first."

"Good thinking," Jo commended. "What's the last confirmed sighting?"

"Will went to see her around noon and stayed for half an hour. Apparently, it didn't go so well, but Sam and Mickey are talking to him at the station now to get the whole story." Jo and Stuart nodded.

"What about Nina Lloyd. Can we talk to her?"

"She died twenty minutes ago," Nikki informed them in a sombre voice. They could tell that she felt responsible for the woman's death.

"Damn." Stuart whispered. "Let's get down to the security office."

"I'll be with you in a sec," Jo said. "I think we should keep the news of Nina's death under wraps. It could work to our advantage if her accomplices think she's still alive. It might keep them from panicking."

"Might work. Get onto the DCI and see what he thinks." Stuart turned to Nikki. "How many people know that she's dead?"

"Aside from the people working this case, only her doctor and probably a few of the nurses. I'll see if I can round them up," she offered.

"Do it."

oOo

Dr. Daniels was a petite woman in her late fifties. Her hair, already fully greyed was wound in a tight bun, but a few strands had worked their way lose. She was nervously playing with one of them as Jo and Stuart questioned her about her patient. The DCI had agreed to go ahead with Jo's idea to keep Nina's death under wraps for the moment. Nikki was briefing the few people who knew of her death now. With any luck, they could keep the news contained. Since, as far as they knew, Nina had no family, their task was considerably easier.

"I'm afraid, I haven't seen Ms Hinckley today at all. I wasn't feeling very well this morning, so I called in sick. Dr. Allen would have been in charge of her care today," Dr. Daniels blushed slightly as if feeling guilty for having taken the day off.

"We're trying to reach her now," Jo informed her. She found it slightly odd that the doctor although on call wasn't answering her cell phone and landline. She wondered if they should send someone over to her home, but they were stretched pretty thin already with all available people working to find Emma.

"Can you tell us if she is at risk?" Stuart asked.

Dr. Daniels looked at him, not understanding the question.

Jo clarified. "Is there any medication she has to take, for example or are there any complications that could pose a problem?"

Dr. Daniels nodded. "The most likely complications would be from swelling to the brain. We've been treating her with steroids to prevent that, but if she stops taking them, it could well pose a problem. Other than that, she's been given pain medication. Without it, she's likely to experience severe migraines."

"The swelling, what time frame are we looking at? Hours, days?" Jo asked fighting to keep her voice calm and level.

"Hours, but as I said, it's only a possibility."

"What would be the symptoms?" Stuart asked, doing a better job than Jo at maintaining his composure.

"Disorientation, delusions, seizures, loss of consciousness." Dr. Daniels told them. Her voice was cool and clinical, but her eyes betrayed her anguish. "You really need to find her."

"We are doing everything we can." Jo reassured her. She hesitated for a moment, then continued. "Do you have any idea where Dr. Allen could be? We're having trouble reaching her." Jo noticed the curious look Stuart shot her, but she ignored him and focused on the witness in front of her.

Dr. Daniels shook her head. "She only just started working here a few weeks ago. She keeps to herself most of the time. I have no idea if she's seeing anyone."

"Did she ever mention anything about her family?"

Dr. Daniels considered the question for a moment. "I think she mentioned she was adopted. She…" Her beeper went off. She quickly checked the display. "If you would excuse me, I'm needed on the ward."

"Sure. Thank you for your help, Dr. Daniels." Jo said warmly. The woman got up and left the room the security office had made available to the detectives.

Once she had left, Stuart turned to Jo. "What were those questions about this Dr. Allen all about?"

"Just a gut feeling," Jo shrugged, not ready to share her suspicions just yet.

There was a knock on the door and a second later one of the security guards of the hospital poked his head in. "I've got a nurse here. She says it's important. Apparently she's seen your officer this afternoon."

Stuart nodded to him. The guard stepped back and allowed a young Asian woman to enter. Her clothes looked rumpled and her long hair was in disarray. Her face looked like she'd been crying. She didn't enter. She hovered in the doorway, watching the detectives with fear-filled eyes.

"Please, sit down," Jo invited her.

"Your name, please?" Stuart asked, his voice much harsher than Jo's had been just a moment ago.

"Amelia Nguyen. I think I can help you."

"Okay, what is it that you want to tell us?"

"I...I don't know," she fumbled.

"Just start from the beginning," Jo advised. She tried to hide her impatience.

"It was around one this afternoon. I had helped Ms Hinckley shower and change, when she asked me if it would be possible for her to attend her husband's funeral later today. I didn't think she was well enough, but I felt sorry for her so I talked to Dr. Allen about it. She thought it would be a good idea for her to attend the funeral and she asked me to arrange for a taxi for Ms Hinckley. You see, my boyfriend is a cabbie working the taxi stand at the hospital."

A feeling of dread was starting to rear its head in the back of Jo's mind. She had an awful suspicion that she knew where this was heading.

"What's your boyfriend's name?" Stuart asked, interrupting her account.

"Rick...Richard Tucker. I can't reach him and I'm so worried that something might have happened to him and Ms Hinckley." She started to cry.

Jo and Stuart exchanged a look. There was no easy way to do this.

oOo

It was getting hard to breathe, but she couldn't stop herself from crying even though she knew it would soon cause her to suffocate. It was as if a damn had burst, flooding her numbed mind with feelings of grief and sorrow. She cried for the husband she couldn't remember and she cried for the woman she'd been. The tears simply wouldn't end. They were drowning her and she didn't care.

Suddenly, she was pulled from her mental inferno of emotions back into the physical world when the tape was ripped from her mouth. She cried out in pain. Her lips felt like they were on fire, but she could breathe again. She was still drawing in gulping breaths, aware of not much besides her brain's hunger for oxygen, when the bonds around her wrists gave. She instinctively snatched her arms forwards, moving them from the position they had been painfully locked in for hours. Only when her legs were freed as well, she realized that the person cutting her bonds wasn't there to rescue her at all. It wasn't a police officer or a paramedic like she had subconsciously expected, but a slim figure in dark clothes, whose face was hidden by a balaclava. His dark eyes were quick, flickering with emotion as he pulled her into a sitting position, gun in hand.

"Why?" It was all Emma managed to say, her voice hoarse from crying. Her eyes were still fixed on the man's gun, and she couldn't help thinking that even she wouldn't be lucky enough to survive getting shot a second time.

The man didn't answer. "Can you stand?"

Emma didn't think so, didn't even try. She squirmed in his grip as he tried to pull her to her feet, but even if she had wanted to, her legs wouldn't have held her. He grabbed her roughly, not even seeming to notice her feeble attempts to escape, and began dragging her across the small room towards the door. It seemed to take forever, but they finally made it across. Her dragging feet had just touched the worn brown carpet of the hallway when the front door at the other end was opened.

The woman who stepped into the apartment looked different than the last time she'd seen her, but Emma recognized her unmasked face at once. It was Dr. Allen.

"What's this supposed to be?" she demanded. "Why didn't you finish her off?" the man who'd presumably been trying to rescue her after all, pushed her aside. Emma collapsed onto her side, landing right in the doorway to the bathroom. The impact unleashed a wave of pain inside her head, threatening to pull her under into the realm of oblivion. She fought to hold on. Despite how she'd felt earlier in hospital, she didn't want to die. Through the tears filling her eyes, she could see the lock beneath the handle of the door. The key was inside, on the inside.

Her kidnappers were arguing, not paying any attention to her. Emma crawled forwards, inch by inch until she was just inside the door. Now came the difficult part. She'd at least have to get to her knees in order to close the door and turn the key. It seemed an impossible feat, but somehow, calling onto strength she hadn't known she possessed, she managed to pull herself up by the handle and lock the door behind her. The effort left her spent, but she could only allow herself a brief moment of respite.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

oOo

Emma could still hear her kidnappers arguing in the hallway, their voices growing angrier with each passing second. So far they were distracted, but it was only a matter of time until they noticed her attempt to escape. She might be able to hope for mercy from the young man, but Dr. Allen, who probably wasn't a real doctor at any rate, appeared intent on killing her and she seemed by far the stronger of the pair. If it came down to it, Emma knew that she didn't stand a chance of fighting back. She was having enough trouble crawling across the tiny bathroom which stretched out interminably as she inched her way forwards on her hands and knees. Blood had started to drip from her nose, but she had no time to worry about its source. Finally, already panting hard, she reached the tub. She was just thinking about how to best scale that final obstacle when a gunshot rang out.

oOo

It was getting close to midnight, but there was no sign of the search for Emma slowing down. A repeated canvass of the industrial estate where the cab with the murdered driver in the boot had been found had yielded the same result - which in essence, was nothing at all. They had so far been unable to locate the anonymous caller.

Now, a group of tired-faced but determined officers and detectives was gathered in one of the briefing rooms. The white board at the front of the room served as a visual summary of the case. Victims so far included the two men - Matt Hinckley and Richard Tucker, who had both been killed by point blank range gunshots to the head. Emma, their third victim, had miraculously survived a similar injury, but was now missing. Nina Lloyd's photograph, although she too was dead now, was in the other column - that of their suspects. This column was considerably lighter. Only Nina's picture was affixed underneath the heading.

The murmurs of conversation died down once the superintendent stepped to the front of the room, welcoming them and thanking them for attending on such short notice and at the late hour.

"PC Hinckley requires urgent medical treatment, so finding her must be our primary focus for the moment. We can worry about catching those responsible once we've located her. That being said, most of you will have heard by now that the woman who tried to kill PC Hinckley at the hospital is dead. She died of meningitis this afternoon. It's now up to us to locate her accomplices. During questioning, she never admitted her involvement, but we have solid forensic evidence that places her at the scene of Matt Hinckley's murder," Superintendent Heaton summed up what they knew so far.

Lorna stepped forwards. "We were able to match the gun found in her apartment to the bullets recovered from the victim and the scene. There were no prints on the gun, but a small drop of blood at the scene gave us a DNA match to Nina Lloyd. She can therefore undoubtedly be placed at the scene."

"So, we're operating under the assumption that she did it?" Phil asked, seeking clarification.

"We don't know," Heaton replied. "And finding out isn't out priority at the moment. What we are almost certain of is that she has accomplices who have now abducted PC Hinckley."

Phil nodded.

"DC Webb and I have been digging into Nina Lloyd's background, without much luck, I might add. We found out that she was adopted right after birth by a couple called Hellers. Apparently they had no children of their own and raised Nina as an only child. Mr Heller is deceased and Ms Heller is in a care home, but she suffers from dementia and most likely won't be able to tell us anything. I spoke the people at the home and according to them, Nina regularly visited until about a month ago," Sam who was also standing at the front of the room told the group.

"Do we know what happened a month ago?" Heaton asked.

"Not yet. But we think it's important that we find out because at the same time, Nina stopped attending her therapy sessions. Her psychiatrist of course couldn't tell us why she'd been seeing him, but he appeared pretty concerned about her. The one thing he could tell us was that the last time she saw him, she mentioned her sister. He remembered because he also thought she was an only child. We think that somehow she has gotten in touch with her biological family. Unfortunately for us, the records of the adoption are sealed. We need a court order to get access and that isn't going to happen before tomorrow."

"What are we doing now?" Phil asked, sounding doubtful.

Heaton shot him a sharp glance. "Now, we're going back over what we have and find out what we've missed. Someone has to have seen Nina's accomplices somewhere." They all knew it was far from a satisfactory answer, but there was not a lot more they could do for Emma at the moment.

A thought struck Sam and she wondered why she hadn't thought of it earlier, It sounded a bit silly, but it made sense, especially given Nina's apparent history of mental problems.

"Sir, what if we've been unable to find any trace of her accomplices because they do not exist? We just think that she's had to have accomplices, but there is no indication that this is indeed the case."

"DI Nixon is right," the soft spoken CSE pointed out, "We haven't found any evidence at the crime scene that would indicate that more than one person committed the crimes. The only sample of DNA evidence recovered matches Nina Lloyds' DNA."

Feeling like she had at least some back-up, Sam continued, "DC Webb and PC Fletcher have examined the CCTV footage from the hospital around the time that Nina made the second attempt on PC Hinckley's life."

"Yeah, all we did see was her entering the hospital with a bag. She disappears into the restrooms and comes back out dressed like a nurse. Then she goes straight to try and poison Emma," Mickey confirmed. "We think she must have brought both the drug and the outfit with her."

Lorna was frowning. "What happened to the bag? Was it recovered?"

"It was. It's been logged along with the other evidence. But all that was in there were a bunch of clothes." Mickey shrugged, probably, just like Sam, wondering where Lorna was going with this.

"It's a long shot, but in examining her clothes for possible trace evidence, we might find out where she's been recently and even who she's been in contact with. But that could take a while," Lorna explained.

"Do it anyways. Once your people are finished with the cabbie murder," Heaton ordered.

"We're still working on that, but the fire destroyed most of the evidence and what little wasn't destroyed was most likely washed away by the fire brigade."

"That's a shame," Heaton commented grumpily before turning his attention back to Sam. "You think the murder of this cab driver is an unrelated crime?"

"I think so," Sam plunged ahead, wondering if there were sharks in the water. "It might be a robbery gone wrong."

"Then what happened to PC Hinckley?" His tone of voice suggested that he wasn't convinced by what she'd said so far.

"I don't know. The robbers might have panicked...it's only a theory, sir," Sam tried not to sound too defensive.

"Well, I think it doesn't effectively change our approach, since Barton Street gladly gave us the case back," he remarked sarcastically. "DS Turner and DC Masters, I want you to work that angle. You were at the scene earlier that should give you a good starting point. DC Webb and DI Nixon will re-examine the witness statements and co-ordinate another canvass with uniform. I hope everyone is clear on what they have to do. I wish all of us good luck! You know what's at stake," Heaton concluded the briefing.

Sam leaned back against the wall, trying to hide her frustration. She thought her theory was solid and Heaton wasn't taking it seriously. But if there was anything to that taxi driver's murder, Stuart and Jo would find it. They were good at their jobs.

"Sam?" Jo came walking up to her. "I didn't want to say this in front of everybody, but I think there is someone else we should check out."

"Who?" Sam's mind when on alert. They needed a new lead, and the needed it fast.

"A certain doctor Susan Allen. The name or credentials might be fake, but she is the doctor who allowed Emma to go to the funeral and asked the nurse to arrange something with her boyfriend who happens to be the murdered cabbie, to get her there safely. When we spoke to Emma's doctor, she was very surprised that any doctor would have allowed Emma to leave the hospital in her condition. Hospital security left messages with Dr. Allen, but she hasn't responded to any of them. I had them give me her phone number and address. The phone goes straight to voice mail, and the address doesn't exist. The buildings been torn down months ago. I checked."

"Good job!" Sam commended. With any luck, Dr. Allen would be the lead they were looking for. "Can you give me her details?"

Jo read out the address and phone number from her notes. Sam thanked her and promised to keep her in the loop while she was working the other murder with Stuart.

oOo

The faint pop of a gunshot coming from the other side of the locked door made Emma stop cold in her efforts. She couldn't recall having heard that particular sound before, but she instantly knew what it was - a gun fired with a silencer. There was more - not a memory as such, just a fragment that appeared in a flash and was gone before her mind had a chance to process it.

Emma ignored it and pressed on. Using the rim of the rub to support herself she managed to get to her knees. She was sweating heavily from the strain and blood was still dripping from her nose. None of it mattered, not even the blinding pain in her head or the flashes of strobe light she saw whenever she closed her eyes. The door behind her rattled, accompanied by an angry shout. Someone started kicking the door. Emma didn't look up. She needed to get on the rim at the short end of the tub in order to reach the window. She had no idea if she'd even get it open of if she'd through, but if she was going to die, she was going to go down fighting. The door behind her was buckling, but for the moment it seemed to be holding.

Emma pulled herself to her feet using the ledge of the window. She could hardly stand, leaning heavily against the tiles. She could reach the handle now. It took some force, but the window opened.

Outside, rain was falling in the night. Emma peered downwards, looking how far the ground was. The ground looked impossibly far away - 2nd floor, Emma guessed. Going out head first would most likely be lethal, but staying inside would be as well. She at least stood a chance that the fall wouldn't kill her, while a bullet to the head virtually guaranteed her death.

Emma was trying to climb onto the rim of the tub, her limbs undo-operative when there was another pop, and with a crash, a slug buried itself in the tiles a mere three feet from where she was standing. Another shot followed, closer this time. Emma let herself drop into the tub with a crash. Not only would she be safe there from further bullets, but she hoped that she would be able to fool her attacker into thinking that they'd hit her. Emma lay as still as she possibly could as she listened.

Then she heard another shot, followed by a scream. Emma waited. Sounds of cursing and moaning came from outside. She didn't know what had happened and she didn't care.

It was much harder than the first time around, but Emma got up again. Her vision kept blurring. She wiped a hand at her eyes, but there were no tears obscuring her vision. The strobe lights dancing in front of her eyes were now there all the time, not just when she closed her eyes. It was now or never.

In a bout of gargantuan effort, Emma pulled herself up. The window was just large enough for her to fit through. She glanced down again and this time she could see a bunch of dumpsters underneath the window, filled with trash bags. This was her chance, she realized. They might just break her fall enough for her to survive this. Emma took a last deep breath of fresh air and pushed herself out the window.

oOo

Sam glanced up from the crime scene photos on her desk and looked around. The CID office was filled with activity, but the atmosphere was subdued. There had been no breakthroughs so far and dawn was approaching fast. Jo and Stuart were mulling over traffic camera footage trying to track the movements of the cab, but they'd lost it a few streets down from the hospital and hadn't managed to find it again yet. They might live in the capital of CCTV cameras, but there were enough areas without surveillance and smart criminals knew that.

Sam leaned back and stretched, trying to work out the kinks in her neck. Knots of tension had formed between her shoulder blades as she'd gone over every witness statement. Lorna had promised first results by morning, but that was at least another two hours away. She sighed, then pulled out her phone and hit redial. She had been trying to call Dr. Allen all night. She'd checked in with hospital security a couple of times as well, but the doctor hadn't shown up there either. She'd tried to do a background check on her, but as Jo had already suspected, the name was as fake as the address. She did have one lead though. CAD had been able to provide her with the address attached to the landline number Dr. Allen had given the hospital. The building was scheduled to be torn down as well in a few days. The last tenants had just moved out, but they probably hadn't cut off services yet. It would be an ideal place to hold a hostage, Sam thought. Or hide a body for long enough to change identities and disappear. Sam had to admit that her earlier theory was starting to look slightly tattered. But it had just been that, a theory based on the evidence. The evidence didn't tell them either way, so she might as well check it out. She cast another look around the room checking who appeared the least busy. Her eyes settled on Will. He looked like he could use something to take his mind off things.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

oOo

Will tried to suppress the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach as he lead the way up the dark stairwell, followed closely by Sam. He tried hard not to show it, but for some reason, this place made the hairs rise on the back of his neck.

He had been glad when Sam had asked him to back her up when she checked out the fake doctor's address, but he hadn't counted on the place being this spooky. It wasn't a word Will would normally use; 'spooky' had no place in his job.

"This should be the right floor." Will nearly jumped when Sam broke the tense silence between them. "Apartment 223." She pushed open a fire door leading to a hallway branching off to their right. Will reached out to catch the door before it swung closed, when his hand touched something wet. He instinctually yanked it back. In the light of his torch, he took a look at the sticky substance on his fingers. It was deep red and a sniff of the coppery aroma confirmed that it was fresh blood.

"What's going on?" Sam turned around, only now having noticed that Will wasn't following her. He turned the beam of his torch onto the door. Sam followed it with her eyes and saw what he'd seen.

"I think we've come to the right place."

Using their torches, Will and Sam proceeded to search the floor and walls for more traces of blood. A trail of bloody smears was leading along the walls, stopping around the elevator. The control panel was smeared with blood as well. Following the trail of blood backwards, they soon found themselves in front of the door to apartment 223. The door was only ajar and sported more bloody handprints.

Leading the way, Will pushed open the door with his elbow, careful not to disturb any evidence.

oOo

One moment, Emma had been falling, seemingly without end and then, abruptly, it was all over. She didn't feel the impact itself. All Emma felt was a sudden explosion of pain consuming every fibre of her body, burning through her like fire. She wanted to scream, but couldn't. Her body wouldn't obey the frantic commands of her mind. The pain was everywhere, there was no escape. Was that what it was like to die, Emma wondered, but the moment of clarity was soon swept away by the ocean of agony that was drowning her. She went under, her mind and body finally yielding.

When she came to awareness again, maybe minutes, maybe hours later, she couldn't tell, the pain had lessened ever so slightly, allowing her to be aware of other sensations as well.

She couldn't really see anything, beyond vague outlines in the darkness, but she could feel cold wetness covering her skin and she smelled decay in the cool, humid air. For a long time, all she could do was to keep breathing through the torturous pain in her chest. There was no space for any other thoughts, considerations or fears. Then, finally, as her mind was just starting to clear a little bit, Emma realized that somehow, she had to have survived the fall. Being dead couldn't possibly hurt this much, she thought. She would have been content to stay where she was, but she was beginning to be rational enough to know that she needed to find help. Her injuries were most likely severe – her waning vision only one of the clues as to the seriousness of her condition. She needed help and she needed to get it while she still could.

oOo

Emma wasn't walking. She had abandoned the idea mere feet from where she'd climbed out of the dumpster. Her legs refused to carry her. There was nothing she could do. She could still feel them, reassuring her that she probably hadn't broken her back in the fall, but walking still was out of the question. She had started to crawl on her hands and knees. She had no idea where she was going. She could hardly see anymore. Where the bright flashes of light had plagued her earlier, her vision was now reduced to dark shades and vague outlines that really weren't a lot of use to her. But her other senses were still working. She could hear a steady stream of traffic going by not too far away from her left and it was in that direction that she was moving with steady and concentrated effort.

Emma never heard the car as she crawled along the deserted alley way. When it caught her in its headlights, she froze, collapsing to the ground as the bright lights seemed to burn their way straight into her brain. It was too much. The pain in her head exploded, leaving nothing but oblivion in its wake.

oOo

It hadn't taken Will and Sam longer than a minute to ascertain that the apartment was empty. Whoever had left the traces of blood in the hallway was now gone, but once they'd seen the amount of blood soaking the carpet of the narrow hallway leading into the flat from the front door, they had known that they were looking for more than one person, one of them possibly dead already, judging by the amount of blood present. The discovery seemed to confirm everything Will had feared. No matter which way he turned every scenario his mind could come up with lead to only one explanation for what he was seeing. Emma was dead. He felt sick when he thought off how she'd probably died - bleeding out on a dirty piece of carpet, alone and with no hope of rescue. He could only hope that she had died quickly.

Sam had gone to join the search of the rest of the building, leaving Will behind to watch Lorna Hart go about her job. Ostensibly, he was there to stand guard of course, but no one actually thought the killer would be coming back, not with the whole building being turned upside down by police. The search was their number one priority now. With every passing minute, their chances of catching the killer dwindled. As for finding Emma alive, Will had had the distinct impression that he wasn't the only one who'd given up hope. He was no expert, but the crime scene told a clear story.

"Anything yet?" Will asked, more out of courtesy than genuine interest as Lorna walked past him to put her camera away.

"A lot of questions so far, but no answers," she replied. "But I'm fairly certain that it's more complicated than it looks. We'll probably need to do a full reconstruction of this scene."

Will felt a flicker of hope, but quashed it immediately. It would hurt far too much in the long run.

"I think there were one shooter and at least two other people here."

Will was surprised. "How can you tell?"

"Well, it's not for certain, but there are three distinct blood trails. This one," she pointed to a large dark stain on the carpet, "It is from someone losing a lot of blood fairly fast, while being stationary."

"The person bled out on the floor," Will translated.

"Most likely. Someone else was bleeding, but still mobile. Those are the bloody tracks that begin here and are leading all the way out to the elevator. I think they belong to the shooter."

Will looked at her questioningly. Lorna indicated the bathroom door at the end of the hallway. "You see the damage to the lock there?"

Will nodded.

"To me that looks like someone was trying to shoot open the door. That might work well in movies, but in reality it's a very dangerous thing. This indentation here in the metal shows that a bullet ricocheted off the lock, injuring the shooter themselves."

Will nodded again; trying to process what Lorna had told him.

"You said something about a third person?" he eventually asked.

"I think the third person was inside the bathroom and had locked the door from the inside," Lorna said and went to show Will where the key was still inside the mangled look, on the inside. The shooter first shot through the door. Two shots went through the door, here and here." She indicated the bullet holes. They were roughly at chest level. "There is some blood inside the tub, but not enough to account for a gunshot injury. As I said earlier, the shooter probably was injured trying to shoot out the bathroom lock, presumably to get to the person inside. The only question is, where'd that person go?"

"The window!" Will suddenly realized. The bathroom door had been locked when he and Sam had first arrived, but in their search for kidnapper and hostage, Will had broken it down. He hadn't even noticed that the window above the tub was ajar. Rookie mistake, he chastised himself. He had been too focussed on Emma. He shook his head and pushed his way past Lorna. He peered out the window, only to be discouraged by what he saw. It was a two story drop. There were a bunch of dumpsters underneath the window, filled with garbage bags. If Emma had seen those...Will didn't finish the thought. Ignoring Lorna who had followed him into the bathroom, he started to run.

oOo

Will arrived there panting, but to his great dismay, the dumpster was empty. No sign of Emma, at least none that the rain hadn't washed away already.

Dejectedly, he leaned against the dumpster. Maybe she had never jumped. But if she hadn't, how had she or whoever had been locked in the bathroom escape from there? The window was the only possible exit and as she wasn't lying dead down here, chances were that she was still alive. Will looked around again, more closely this time. He needed something tangible to convince the DCI to expand the search to the rest of the desolate estate.

There, he could see faint reddish traces on the rim of the dumpster. Might be blood, might be paint. Lorna would probably be able to tell them. Will got on the radio to Sergeant Smith who was in charge of co-ordinating the search to let him know that while he hadn't located the perpetrator, he had found what looked to be blood traces on a dumpster.

oOo

Sam was bone tired and soaked to the skin. Suppressing a yawn, she followed Mickey back into the station. Jack had called them back in to take care of a suspected serious assault on their patch. Sam couldn't help but feeling that it was a punishment of some sort. But every victim deserved their full attention, not just the ones they knew and were close to, she reminded herself.

Details on the assault were rather sketchy so far. An unidentified young woman had been dumped in front of A&E at St. Hugh's in the early morning hours, apparently the victim of assault. The hospital had called it in after they'd had a look at the woman's injuries.

"How do you want to play this?" Mickey asked as they climbed up the stairs to CID.

Sam suppressed a yawn. "Go to the hospital. I don't count on us finding any witnesses there, but at least we can have a look at the CCTV. Maybe we'll get a look at the car that dropped her off."

"Yeah, apparently, the doctors pretty much rule out that she made it to the hospital without help."

"Agreed. I'm just going to change into something a bit more dry, and then I'm with you."

Mickey looked at her in surprise. "You got a change of clothes in your desk?"

"Sure, you never know when you might need it," she smirked despite her fatigue. She'd learned that lessen the hard way. You never knew what was going to happen on the job. The small risks like that you could live with easily, but what had happened to Emma and Matt was a whole different thing, Sam mused as they entered the CID office.

"Wish I'd thought of that," Mickey grumbled and ran a hand through his wet hair, making it look even messier. "You'd think I would know by now," he said and sighed, perching on the edge of his desk, oblivious that he was dripping all over it.

Sam just bent down to get a change of clothes from the bottom drawer of her desk when the phone on her desk rang. She reached to answer. It was the court house. A sympathetic judge who'd gotten up early had signed their authorization first thing in the morning. She spoke for a few minutes with the secretary who had made the call, thanked her and hung up.

She turned to Mickey. "They're faxing a copy of Nina's adoption records," she explained. "Apparently, she's got a twin sister, Melanie."

"They were split up at adoption?"

Sam nodded. "Her sister was adopted by another couple. Also here in the city. I talked the courthouse secretary into sending me her file as well. I'm thinking they must have met somehow."

"They must have, although I'm not sure how meeting your long lost sister translates into killing people," Mickey considered, apparently having his doubts. Sam had to admit that it was a rather radical change from the theory she had proposed earlier at the briefing. But with the newly emerged facts taken into consideration, she realized that there physical evidence as well might take on new meaning.

"You know that blood smear Lorna found at the scene and matched to Nina?"

Mickey nodded.

"Well, if they are identical twins, the blood could have come from either Nina or Melanie."

"Good point, I hadn't thought of that. Unfortunately that means if we ever get Nina's sister into court, this case is going to fall apart so fast it'll make our heads spin."

Sam was about to reply when the fax machine in the office sprang to life. Sam went over, watching impatiently as the pages printed. She snatched them up as soon as they were through, scanning through them hastily.

"What would you say to a free curry? After we've put this case to bed?" Sam turned back to Mickey.

"You're offering?"

"Call it an exchange. There is something I want to check out. I think it's important, but I already made a fool out of myself once today, I really don't need that again." Sam was a bit embarrassed asking Mickey to cover for her, but she needed to follow her gut on this.

"Sure, why not?" Mickey shrugged carelessly. He pushed himself up from where he had been perched on the table. "I'm off to St. Hugh's. See you later, then?"

"Sure," Sam replied, forcing a smile. She watched Mickey walking out of the CID office.

"You're not thinking about going there alone, are you?" Sam searched for the source of the familiar male voice. "Phil? What are you doing here this early?" Phil was never one to show up at work earlier than he had to. Sam checked her watch just to be sure, but it confirmed that it was barely six.

"The DCI's got me and Terry working some car jacking sting," Phil replied, not really answering her question. He got up and reached for his jacket. "I'm coming with you."

"You don't even know where I'm going," Sam pointed out.

"Doesn't matter. I'm not letting you run out all on your own, not when you're dealing with someone who kills people, including cops, without a second thought."

"Really, I can handle it. Besides, you don't want the DCI catching you do anything other than what you are supposed to." Sam was thinking back to Phil's recent stint in uniform. Phil shrugged, as if to indicate that he didn't care. He slipped into his jacket. "Where are we going?"

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

oOo

Much to his surprise Mickey hardly had had to wait before the young physician on duty had time to speak to him. He looked too young to have an office of his own, so Mickey was all the more surprised to be asked into a fairly spacious office.

The white-clad man motioned for Mickey to sit after the detective had introduced himself and shown his warrant card.

"I'm glad you found the time to come here on such short notice, detective. We still haven't been able to identify the young woman, but having examined her, I'm fairly convinced that she was the victim of a crime."

"What can you tell me about her injuries?" Mickey asked, ready to take notes. This wasn't exactly the sharp end of policing, but every victim deserved the same attention, whether he had personal ties to the victim or not.

"I'm not sure where to start, to be honest. She suffered serious head trauma, but the injury is several days old, and I have to say that I have never seen anything like it. I have no idea as to what could have caused it. The..."

A nasty suspicion was forming in the back of Mickey's mind. Was it possible that they had found Emma, without even knowing it? Even so, she had been in a hospital after being shot, she would have had proper treatment, he thought and turned his attention back to what the physician was telling him.

"...hairline fractures to the right wrist and cheekbone, but they should heal without complications. What concerns me the most is the head injury. If she had been properly treated in the first place, the hemorrhage might have been preventable, but by the time she was admitted, we had no choice but to operate."

Mickey realized he hadn't been listening. Still, there was only one way to know for certain, if this was Emma or not. "Can I see her?"

The doctor looked at him in surprise. "I don't think you understand; she is in no shape to tell you anything. It's a matter of if she'll wake up, not when."

Mickey swallowed hard. "I'd still like to see her." Suddenly, although he would not wish the unknown woman's fate on anyone, he was hoping that it wouldn't turn out to be Emma.

"Whatever you want. However, I doubt her own family would recognize her at the moment. Injuries like this cause a great deal of swelling, especially if they go untreated," the doctor told him dispassionately. Mickey felt anger welling up inside of him. It might be the young man's job to deal with horrific injuries, but it was a human being they were talking about here, who had been through a terrible ordeal by all accounts.

oOo

The physician had been right, the figure outstretched on the bed in front of him was barely recognizable - what part of her head and face wasn't obscured by bandages was badly swollen and covered in bruises, some fading already, others still deeply purple. Nevertheless, Mickey knew beyond doubt now that they had found Emma. Mickey filled her doctor in on as many personal details as he knew and told him that the station would provide them with the rest.

The doctor blanched when he heard Emma's name.

"I...I really had no idea...," he stammered, "I should have checked with the other departments, but the care she's been given previously for her injuries was so clearly sub-standard that I never thought she'd been treated at a hospital."

Mickey nodded, but didn't have the heart to say anything. The young man no doubt would be in enough trouble from his superiors and the hospital administration without Mickey adding to it. Besides, he had something else on his mind.

"In what way has her care been substandard?" Mickey asked, wondering if the fake Dr. Susan Allen had played a hand in this as well.

"Well, the wound itself appears to have been cared for very well and blood tests have shown that she has been given pain medication, but she really should have been treated to prevent potential swelling and, of course, infection. This really does not meet the standard of care we set at this hospital. I frankly don't understand how any trained physician could overlook this," Emma's doctor told Mickey.

Was it possible that Dr. Allen had tampered with Emma's meds? It seemed like a pretty awkward way to kill her, especially given that the other attempts on Emma's life had been much less subtle. It didn't matter now, he supposed. He doubted that they would try again, but this time, they were going to make sure.

He turned to the doctor. "I want you to call security. Have them post two people in front of her room. They are not to let anyone in, unless they've verified their identification."

"I can't authorize this," the doctor protested.

"You can. A pair of officers from Sun Hill will be there as soon as possible to take over, but this woman is still in danger. Someone tried to kill her the last time she was in this hospital and nearly succeeded, and I'm going to make sure that this doesn't happen again."

"I'll see what I can do." The young man didn't appear impressed by Mickey's words. Mickey bit back an angry retort. Losing his cool wouldn't help. The best he could do now was to call the station and wait right here in front of Emma's room until they could send some officers to stand guard.

oOo

"I don't think this is such a good idea," Phil said not for the first time when they finally pulled into Renford Street, the last known address of Nina's and her sister's birth parents.

Sam ignored Phil and pulled up to the curb, at a good distance from number 28. Even if she didn't want to admit it in front of Phil, she had her worries, too. Susan was unpredictable and ready to kill at the slightest provocation. Injured, with her partner and sister dead, she might well feel like she had nothing left to lose and become even more unstable. If Emma wasn't dead already, she was now in more danger than ever.

Phil and Sam climbed out of the car in silence and made their way down the street. For a moment, it looked like Phil was going to say something, but he remained silent. They arrived in front of number 28. The curtains were drawn and no light was bleeding through, but given the early hour, that wasn't all too surprising. Nothing looked out of the ordinary at first glance.

"I'll have a look around the back," she announced, not wanting to admit in front of Phil that for the second time in less than a day, a theory of hers was falling apart. It was as if she was missing a crucial piece, something that would allow her to understand why Nina, Susan and their as-of-yet unknown male accomplice had gone on a murderous rampage that had resulted in three deaths already.

Not waiting for a reply from Phil, Sam made her way to the back of the house, taking the small path between the main building and the garage.

It was clear that a lot of work went into maintaining the property. There wasn't a blade of grass growing between the light gray paving stones. An assortment of garden gnomes flanked the wall of the house.

Behind the house was a small, but equally impeccable garden, a lawn seamed by rows of roses. Sam turned her attention back to the house. The long curtains were drawn in the back windows as well but light was still shimmering through the fabric. Sam walked closer to see shadowed outlines of furniture through the curtain. She could tell it was a living room. She could clearly make out the typical furniture. It looked like one of the couches was occupied, but she couldn't tell for certain. What she could make out clearly was the figure pacing nervously across the room and back. Sam's mind was racing. The scene in front of her eyes could have millions of possible interpretations, yet she knew, she felt that there was a danger present. However, before she could make up her mind, she heard the clear sound of the doorbell ringing. Phil? What the hell was he doing? Had he seen something that had prompted him to intervene or was he, just being Phil, blindly plunging ahead? The doorbell rang again, followed by muffled shouting. Sam strained to hear clearly, but she couldn't make out the words, couldn't even tell if the voice belonged to Phil or a stranger. As Sam watched powerlessly, how the figure with the gun disappeared from the back room, she felt anger at Phil rising inside of her. He always, always had to play the hero, no matter who he put in danger with his rash actions. Not that she thought that Phil would ever purposefully endanger her safety, but he sometimes just didn't think before leaping into action.

Even so, whatever anger she held, it died instantly when a gunshot tore through the air.

Phil!?

Sam considered heading for the front of the house, but realized that the best thing she could do for everyone involved was to stay out of sight and get back-up there as soon as possible. She had no now doubts anymore that this was what she had feared - a hostage situation. Emma might or might not be in there, she might even be already dead, but there was someone sitting in that chair in the living room and that was reason enough.

Trying to keep part of her attention focused on what was going on inside, Sam dialed the DCI's number on her cell-phone. The man answered almost immediately.

"Sir, Phil and I have located the woman posing as one of Emma's doctors at the hospital. We believe she is responsible for Emma's kidnapping." Sam proceeded to give a brief account of what had happened since their arrival at the house.

"Any sign of PC Hinckley?" the DCI interrupted her, just as she was getting to the point where Phil had gone to confront their suspect.

"Not so far, but I have limited view of what's going on inside the house," she whispered.

"What about DS Hunter?" Jack asked sharply, probably already having some idea of what was going on.

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "He stayed up front while I went around back."

"I see, and he decided to go in, didn't he?"

"Yes, sir," Sam replied, glad that she didn't have to spell it out for her superior. "I heard a gunshot about a minute ago; since then, nothing," Sam reported. "I don't know if anyone's been injured."

"You stay out of there. Keep your distance; we don't need anyone else in there. What is the address anyway?" Jack sounded only mildly irritated that he had not been kept in the loop. Sam gave him the address.

"I'll get a team together, and we'll be there as soon as possible. It's probably best if you stay on the line, so you'll be able to keep us apprised of any new developments."

"Yes, sir." Sam could feel some of her cool returning to her as she listened to the DCI tell her exactly what was going to happen. It wasn't that she hadn't been in tricky or dangerous situations before-- she wasn't a DI for nothing -- but still, her heart was pumping hard, and she could almost feel the cold hand of fear squeezing her throat.

oOo

Phil was only semi-aware of being dragged inside the house. He was having a hard time holding on to consciousness and barely noticed when he was dumped roughly on the floor. Shock, his numbed brain belatedly realized. He was probably losing blood rapidly as well. Phil tried to get a look at his thigh where the bullet had hit him. It was bad. Blood wasn't just dripping, it was flowing from the injury, quickly soaking the off-white carpet around him. At that rate, he was going to go fast. The bullet must have hit an artery for the bleeding to be this bad. He had to do something, or he would be unconscious in a matter of minutes and dead not much longer after that. He shed a brief glance at his surroundings, just long enough to gage if there was any immediate threat, but the crazed woman who had opened the door and had shot him without the slightest warning was pacing up and down the room, her lips moving silently.

She didn't appear to pay any attention to him or to the middle-aged woman cowering in one of the beige armchairs nearby. Much to his relief, Phil noted that she appeared to be merely frightened, but not hurt.

Turning his attention back to himself, Phil started to loosen his tie, his efforts hampered by his increasingly numb and cold fingers. There wasn't much time, his body was quickly lapsing into shock due to the blood loss. Finally, he worked the knot loose and could pull the tie down. Twisting his body, he managed to loop it around his injured thigh. His fingers were cold and heavy as he struggled to tighten the makeshift bandage. With his body numb all over, he had no idea how tight he'd have to make it in order to create an effective pressure bandage. Strength waning, he did as best he could, almost sighing with relief when he was done. He was still being held hostage by a mad woman with a gun, but at least he was no longer bleeding like a stuck pig. Even so, it was only moments later that he caught his eyelids drifting and realized that he might have been too late. Oblivion was reaching for him with strong hands. He had never felt this tired in his life. He couldn't keep his eyes open, and seconds later, he was unconscious.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

oOo

He was freezing. The sensation of cold was the first thing Phil became aware of as he slowly regained his senses. It seemed to be all around him, penetrating deep into his bones. Warmth was like a distant memory that he couldn't quite dredge up. He didn't know where he was or why he was so cold, but the question didn't seem too important. He wasn't in any pain and the numbness was almost pleasant in its own right. He didn't have to take care of anything or worry about anything. He thought of opening his eyes, but the effort involved didn't appear to be worth it. Phil would have been content to drift along, when suddenly the memory of what had happened came crashing down on him with the subtlety of an anvil. Phil's eyes flew open in alarm. It seemed to take forever for his vision to adjust and the blurred shapes around him to come into focus, but once they did, his heart sank. He might not have bled to death yet, but he was far from out of trouble, even if the bullet wound didn't kill him. The woman who had shot him was less than a meter from where he was lying on the bloody carpet, rifling through his jacket, which she must have taken off him earlier. Just as Phil was watching with unease, she pulled out his warrant card, turning it over in her hand.

Time suddenly seemed to stand almost still. In slow motion, he watched her turn her head in his direction. Her dark eyes were blazing with madness as she looked him straight in the eyes, her face contorted in a grimace of fury. Phil tore his eyes away from her piercing stare and his gaze fell to the gun in her hand, hanging in a loose grip at her side. He would probably be able to wrestle it away from her, but most likely not before she could fire a shot. If she hit him in the chest or head, his chances of survival were minimal. Phil didn't count on having Emma's luck of surviving a point blank shot to the head. However, if he didn't give it a try, were his chances any better, Phil wondered. He couldn't see his injured leg in his current position, but throbbing pain from the wound, coupled with the cold numbness of the rest of his extremities didn't exactly give him a lot of hope. It was now or never, he decided and with one swift motion he surged upwards and elbowed the woman in the belly.

oOo

Time was passing agonizingly slow. Sam had checked her watch at least five times in as many minutes, convinced that back-up had to be arriving any time, but she had been on the job long enough to know that getting together a response team for a hostage situation took time. Her anxious wait was interrupted by the sudden sound of a second gunshot. Panic filled Sam's mind, despite all her training. The sky was still fairly overcast, but it was getting lighter outside, making it harder to see what was happening behind the curtain. The figure in the armchair hadn't moved, since before she'd checked her watch. It had been deathly still almost the entire time Sam had stood outside watching, and she was starting to think that they might be injured, maybe unconscious, the way the body was slumped.

She couldn't see the figure with the gun, presumably a woman, given the curved outline her body produced against the light. It wasn't an encouraging sign in her mind. She didn't know for certain where Phil was. Maybe with Emma, her mind conceded. Or whether they were still alive, for that matter. Sam waited, but the woman didn't return. Silence reigned over the house. She checked her watch again. Where the hell was back-up? They should be arriving by now. Sam nervously chewed her lip, trying to decide what to do. She could shatter the large window and be inside in a flash. But then what? What if she ended up getting shot herself? It was too risky, even if Emma and Phil were in there.

She had another idea. It was part of the standard negotiation procedure for these kinds of situations anyway. She was just going to hasten the process a bit, she told herself, already knowing full well in how much trouble she would be. Sam pulled out her mobile phone again and terminated the connection the DCI had advised her to keep open. Instead, she speed-dialed Phil's number. She doubted she was going to endanger him any more than he already had endangered himself.

Sam could hear the faint ring of Phil's cell phone inside. It rang three times, five, ten, a dozen. Finally, her call was answered.

"Sam?" The voice was slurred and distorted by pain, but very much familiar.

"Phil! Can you talk?" she asked, immediately going professional, not knowing if the woman had a gun pointed at Phil this very moment.

"I think..." Phil trailed off and Sam could hear him breathing hard. "She's dead."

"Who?" Sam asked, praying that it wasn't Emma.

Phil didn't reply. "Phil?! Who is it? Is it Emma?"

"No...not her," Phil replied, obviously having a hard time forming the words.

Forget this, Sam thought. Still holding her mobile in one hand, she grabbed one of the garden gnomes and smashed the large window. It shattered instantly, showering the patio with glass. Taking care not to cut herself on the sharp edges, Sam stepped through the opening.

"Phil? Tell me where you are," she asked, her eyes already searching the living room. An elderly woman was huddled in a beige armchair, staring at her with fear-filled eyes.

"It's all right," Sam tried to reassure her. "I'm a police officer. Everything is going to be all right." She wasn't so sure about that, but the woman didn't appear injured or in any immediate danger otherwise.

Sam repeated her question to Phil, but he didn't reply. A moment later, she spotted him. She hadn't been able to see this part of the room from outside. The sofa had blocked the view. Phil was slumped against the wall, apparently unconscious, mobile still in his limp hand. Susan Allen, as she'd called herself, was on the floor on her back, the gun between her and Phil. The once light blue blouse visible underneath her black coat was soaked with blood. Sam checked for a pulse, but she already knew the woman was dead.

"Is she..." Sam looked up at hearing Phil's slurred voice.

"She's dead," Sam confirmed. "Where're you hurt?" she asked, already looking him over.

"Got me in the leg," Phil told her. Sam could see that while the wound appeared to have bled a great deal, Phil had at least attempted to self-treat. What concerned Sam more was the blood staining his shirt. Not caring that Phil would probably make fun of her later, she ran probing hands over him, trying to see if he was injured anywhere else, or if the blood was all transfer. Phil didn't even react to her touch; he was out cold. Much to her relief, the only injury was to Phil's upper arm. Blood loss would probably be a problem, but at least it hadn't hit any vital organs. Sam tied her scarf above the injury. Having done all she could, Sam called for an ambulance.

oOo

The rain had let up as the night made way to pre-dawn twilight, but if there had been a useful blood trail that could help them locate Emma, it had long been washed away. Sergeant Smith had decided to request search dogs, but even the animals had only been able to trace Emma's scent about fifty more meters until they'd lost the trace in the middle of the road. Discouraged, the sergeant had decided to call off the search for the time being. Will loathed the idea of returning home. He couldn't help the thought that he was abandoning Emma. She couldn't have gotten far in her condition, he reasoned. She had to be around here somewhere.

Will nearly jumped when a hand suddenly landed on his shoulder.

"Will?" It was Dan. Only now, Will realized that they were the only ones still waiting around.

"Come on, let's go back to the station." Dan smiled, but the expression seemed forced. "There is nothing you can do for her here. You're just going to catch a cold standing around in those wet clothes."

Will nodded. Dan was right. He was wet, tired and exhausted.

"Car's over in the big parking lot," Dan told him.

Will didn't move. As much as he knew that their search was futile, he couldn't seem to make himself move. As odd as it sounded, as long as he was here searching for her, he felt a connection to Emma. A connection to the old Emma, before she had been shot in the head and had her memory of the past four years so brutally erased. As much as he had been trying to tell himself that she was still the same person whether or not she remembered him and the feelings that had at least at one point been between them, what she'd said at the hospital had unleashed a whispering voice of doubt. How could things ever go back to the way they were, after all that had happened?

When looking around for the last time, he spotted a shadowy figure in the twilight. For a brief instant he was filled with hope, but before he could react in any way, the shadow came flying at him, tackling him to the ground hard.

Will instinctively shoved at the figure, but the glint of a knife moving towards his throat stopped him cold. Staring up into a haggard face whose features appeared almost distorted, Will lie as still as possible as he felt the cold metal touch his skin.

Where had Dan gone? Was he all right?

Before he could ponder the question, however, Will felt himself roughly jerked to his feet, the knife never leaving his throat.

"What do you want?" Will tried to speak as calmly as possible, but it had the opposite effect. He felt the blade slice into his skin, warm liquid spilling in its wake. The knife was withdrawn a few millimeters, having made only a shallow cut. The injury itself wasn't what scared Will the most – it would bleed for a while, but certainly not enough to kill him – but his attacker had given a clear demonstration of what he was capable.

Anger was building up inside of him fast, fueled by fear for his life. What had happened to Emma was tragic and they were all hurting for her, but his feelings had gotten in the way. He'd dropped his guard. Instead of wallowing in guilt, he should have kept his eyes open and stayed with Dan, especially when it wasn't properly light yet and Emma's kidnappers were still on the loose.

"What..." Will began, but the renewed pressure on the blade immediately silenced him. He wasn't going to talk his way out of this one.

"Where are your car keys?" the man demanded.

"Pocket."

Will felt the man reach into his pocket. The shift in posture moved the knife an inch away from his throat and Will saw his opening. He yanked up his left arm and slammed it into the hand holding the blade. The blade jerked upwards, painfully slicing into his jaw line, before it clattered to the ground. Will ducked and lunged for the blade. His attacker didn't waste any time either, and soon they were both on the ground wrestling for the knife.

Will momentarily had the upper hand, his strength and training being clearly superior to that of the other man, but a swift kick of a heavy booted foot to his groin caused his grip on the knife to loosen and his attacker quickly pried it from Will's fingers, rolling him onto his back. Will knew he was in deep trouble when he saw the knife making its way toward his throat. He locked his arms against the downward thrust, but leverage was on the other man's side. There was no way he could stop the man from stabbing him. All he could do was buy himself time. As the knife was coming down, Will jerked his body abruptly to the right, causing the knife to come down on his shoulder instead.

oOo

"That's all?" The DCI asked after Sam finished her account of the events at the house. She nodded. So far the older man had listened quietly to what she had to say, but she was sure that an explosion was going to follow any second.

"Well, I don't need to tell you how many rules you broke by going in there after DS Hunter, but from what the doctors told me, you saved his life in doing so."

Sam hesitated for a moment. "How is DS Hunter?"

It had been Jack who had accompanied Phil to the hospital. After her work at the scene was done, Sam had returned to the station, and not really knowing what else to do and not wanting to return home, had started writing her report about the incident.

"He's out of danger. It will be a while until he's back on his feet, though," Jack told her.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. She had already feared the worst.

"You should go home. Your report can wait until tomorrow." Jack looked at her sympathetically. "If you head out now, you might just catch the end of morning visiting hours at St. Hugh's," he added, as if knowing what had been on her mind. Despite what Jack had told her, Sam needed to see for herself that Phil was going to be all right. She didn't want to admit it, but the events of the morning had shaken her badly.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

oOo

Will instinctively closed his eyes, waiting for the knife to ram down into his shoulder, but it never did.

He could hear a faint cry over the rushing in his ears and the weight that had been pinning him down lifted. His curiosity piqued, Will opened his eyes and found himself staring up at a cloudy sky. His attacker was nowhere to be seen. Will was starting to push himself up when Dan stepped into his field of vision. Will gratefully accepted the offered hand and got to his feet. The sudden shift in position combined with the adrenaline rush made him feel intensively dizzy, and if it hadn't been for Dan's steadying grip, he would have fallen flat on his face.

"You okay mate?" Dan asked.

Will took a moment to answer. "Yeah, yeah. Just a bit dizzy," he admitted. For the first time since Dan had helped him to his feet, he looked around.

"Where'd he go?" Will asked, referring to the man who had nearly stabbed him.

"He heard me calling for you and he ran. I...I saw the knife and thought he'd gotten to you..." Dan explained. "I know I shouldn't have let him get away, but I saw the blood..."

Blood? Will looked down on himself. His vest was glistening with wetness and there was blood splatter on his sleeves as well.

"It's not mine," he reassured Dan. "I owe you one!"

"You don't know the best thing yet," Dan grinned. "They found Emma and she's alive! That's why I came looking for you in the first place."

The news took a moment to sink in, then Will broke into a splitting grin. Suddenly, it didn't matter anymore that he was cold, wet and covered in someone else's blood, Emma was alive and that was all that mattered for the moment.

oOo

"I'm not dead, am I?"

Sam lowered the magazine she was reading to see Phil gazing at her with tired eyes, but still smiling weakly.

"No, you aren't, even though you sure tried hard enough." It came out harsher than Sam had intended, as the tension that had had her in its grip ever since she had heard the shot coming from inside the house slowly eased.

"I'm sorry if I worried you," Phil apologized.

"Nice try," Sam smiled despite herself. After all these years, Phil knew exactly how to get to her.

"I doubt that's going to work on the DCI, though."

"How mad is he?" Phil asked.

"Not too bad, considering you broke pretty much every rule in the book. But he'll get over it. You probably did save the life of Susan's birth mother. That's going to count for something."

"Mhm." Phil's eyes had closed while she had spoken. Sam thought at first that Phil had fallen asleep again, but his eyes suddenly shot open, a look of worry on his face.

"What about Emma? Was she..."?

"No, she wasn't in the house. She managed to get away from them back at the abandoned apartment."

"So you found her? Where?"

"She was dropped of at A&E here sometime last night. We don't know who found her," Sam explained.

Phil looked confused.

"Go back to sleep, Phil," Sam advised, seeing that he had a hard time keeping his eyes open. She squeezed his hand, but he was already asleep.

oOo

Three floors down, Will was hovering in the doorway of the cubicle where Emma was being cared for. Mickey had warned him about it not being a pretty sight, but still, seeing her like this, drove a knife right into his gut. All the happiness and relief he had felt when Dan had told him that she was still alive faded as it sank in that he might still lose her. In a way he already had. Will turned his head away, his eyes burning. As much as he'd wanted to do this, he couldn't. Without another look, he turned around and left.

oOo

Even though the case of Matt's and Emma's shooting remained open, life went on in and around Sun Hill. Though he was officially wanted, Susan Allen's accomplice seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth. When Superintendent Heaton decided to involve the media, they received numerous tips from well meaning citizens, but three months later, all leads had been exhausted and they were still no closer to finding their man and the case, while still open, was moved to the back burner. A wave of home invasions was having Sun Hill's citizens living in fear and both uniform and CID had their hands full.

After Will had seen Emma for the last time in hospital the day after she was found, he'd gotten so drunk that he'd been hung over for days afterwards and had gotten a formal reprimand from the inspector. After that he'd taken a few days leave that he'd saved up, and after his return he seemed to have turned the page. To those who knew him well, he seemed a little quieter than before, but not enough to cause them to worry.

It was purely by chance that Will ran into Emma again almost six months after the shooting.

A shoplifter had suddenly pulled a knife when he and Dan had tried to arrest him and had stabbed Will in the shoulder. The injury hadn't been life-threatening, but had still required surgery to repair the ligament damage. The surgery had gone very well, and Will was already back home, but he would still need to complete several weeks of physiotherapy to regain his full range of motion. It was at the office of a local physiotherapist that they met again.

"Emma!" Will exclaimed. He'd never expected to run into her just like this. He'd worked so hard to banish her from his thoughts, because the alternative would have hurt too much, and now there she was smiling brightly at him.

"Will! I haven't seen you in ages. Is everything all right?"

Will regarded her in surprise. He hadn't even been sure she would recognize him, let alone recall his name, but there she was talking to him as if he'd never abandoned her.

"Yeah, little accident at work." He motioned to his shoulder. "I'll be okay, but it will be a few weeks of physiotherapy," Will answered. He felt very uncomfortable with the situation.

"You picked a good one. Dr. Careford is excellent—well, demanding but excellent," she added wryly. "She's done wonders for me."

Will must have looked at her in surprise, because she added, "I've had some trouble with my left side since...you know, but Dr. Careford has done some fantastic work."

"She's exaggerating. I don't often encounter patients as motivated as Miss Hinckley." A middle-aged woman, who had to be Dr. Careford, joined them.

"Are you here to pick up Miss Hinckley?" she asked him.

"No, no." Will shook his head. "I'm here for an appointment; we just met by chance, I mean..." Will floundered, as the chance encounter with Emma had shaken him up.

"We used to work together," Emma supplied helpfully, and turning to the therapist, she answered, "I'll be taking the bus home today."

"That's good, that's very good to hear," Dr. Careford said.

"Bye, Dr. Careford, bye,Will. We should get in touch."

Emma turned and walked out of the office.

Will stared after her, puzzled by her behavior towards him. They hadn't had any contact in months and he'd never been to visit her in hospital either. He'd heard she was doing much better now and apparently it was true. He felt a stab of regret, but pushed the thought aside immediately. It would hurt too much to go there. He'd made the decision to turn the page, to leave her behind and now he had to live with it.

"Now, you are?" she turned to Will.

"Will Fletcher, I had an appointment at 10," Will managed, his mind still trying to process the surprise encounter.

The therapist pulled out a notebook. "Yes, I have you here for 10 o 'clock?" She handed him a form. "Please fill this out."

oOo

Will was exhausted by the time he returned home. Dr. Careford had worked him hard and the slight headache he had woken up with that morning had transformed into a raging migraine. All he wanted to do was lie down somewhere dark and quiet, but it was not to be. Hardly inside his apartment, he could already see the red light blink on his answering machine, indicating that there were messages waiting for him. Will pressed the button and listened as he went to get himself a glass of water and an aspirin tablet. The machine announced that he had two messages. The first was a hang-up. The second, to his great surprise, was from Emma.

"Hi, Will, it's Emma. I know it's the middle of the week and you're probably busy...but I didn't really thank you this morning, and...what about dinner, tonight? Please call me back."

Stunned, Will rewound the message and listened again. Thank him for what? He hadn't even been to see her at the hospital, not after she'd been kidnapped. He was the last person he expected her to thank. He knew that quite a few of uniform and even CID had been regular visitors while Emma was in hospital, so why would she thank him of all people? Will was confused and unsure what to do. He was over Emma. What had been between them was over. As far as Emma was concerned, it hadn't even happened, or so he'd tried hard telling himself for the last six months.

Will sank down on the sofa, burying his head in his hands. He'd been an awful friend, because if he was honest with himself, he hadn't wanted to get hurt again, hadn't wanted to hurt her again. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to behave around her, when he had all those memories that she didn't have. But he couldn't just ignore her either. Will sighed and got up again. Emma's number was still on his speed dial and less than five minutes later, they'd agreed to meet at a pub near Emma's apartment later that night.

oOo

Will was more nervous about meeting Emma than he had been before his very first date. It wasn't even a date, he reminded himself. They were just going to share a meal, as friends—friends who hadn't seen each other in a while. Emma hadn't told him much new on the phone, only that she would love to catch up and that she finally wanted to thank him. Will just hoped that he wasn't making a big mistake in accepting the invitation. Will once again scanned the small pub, looking for Emma. He had arrived a few minutes early and had chosen a table near the back. Still, he didn't have to wait long for Emma. The limp was clearly noticeable when she walked, but as soon as she saw him, she waved and smiled.

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long." Emma slipped out of her coat and pulled up the chair with her right arm. Will couldn't help but notice that her left arm remained hanging limply at her side.

"Listen, Will, I didn't invite you to make you feel uncomfortable. I know we haven't seen each other in a long time and a lot has changed. I understand that people have moved on," she explained. "But...I'm starting to remember things, about the time when I was at Sun Hill, and I miss you guys," Emma admitted with a sad smile. "Plus, all the cards you sent me while I was in hospital, they really...I know it sounds stupid..."

"Wait," Will interrupted. This was awkward. "I didn't send you any cards."

Emma stared at him in shock.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

oOo

"What do you mean you didn't send the cards?" Emma stammered.

"I didn't send you any cards," Will repeated.

"But...that doesn't make any sense!" Emma protested, part of her not willing to believe what she'd been told.

"I'm so sorry, Emma, but they must have come from someone else."

"They were signed, with your name, Will!"

"I think we should take this outside," Will suggested softly and glanced around, Emma did like-wise and for the first time noticed that people were staring at them with curiosity.

"You're right," she conceded and got up. She was all too aware of the looks she was getting as she awkwardly grabbed her coat with one hand. Will moved to help her, but she shook him off and made for the exit.

Will followed her. Only once she was outside, she stopped, leaning against the outside wall of the pub. The cool night air was a relief after the stuffy heat of the pub. She took deep breaths.

"Are you all right?" Emma looked up. Will was leaning against the wall next to her, looking at her with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied.

"No, you're not," Will argued quietly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, but it's true, I didn't send you any cards and I'm sorry about that. I know I should have and I should have visited..." Will rambled.

"Don't." Emma interrupted. She couldn't bear this, not from Will. The cards, they had made her think that with him, things were different, that he hadn't forgotten about her like everyone else had. She pushed herself away from the wall and started walking.

oOo

It took Emma several tries to insert the key into the lock of her apartment's front door. Thinking that she heard a noise, she cast a look back into the hallway, hoping that Will had followed her after all, but it was just her next door neighbor Brian returning to his apartment. She nodded to him, and he waved back. Emma finally unlocked her apartment and went inside.

She flicked the light switch and made her way to the living room where she let herself sink down on the couch, not even bothering to take off her coat first. Emma was exhausted. She'd been looking forward all day to her evening with Will. Never had she imaged to be let down like this. Emma took off her shoes and pulled up her legs onto the couch and wrapped her arms around them, resting her head on her knees.

She was dead exhausted. She wasn't used to walking such long distances yet, but she hadn't wanted to call for a cab she'd just wanted to get away from the pub and away from Will.

oOo

Emma hadn't realized that she'd drifted off into sleep, until a knock on the door woke her up. She got up from the couch and made her way to the door. She was all too aware that her limp was more pronounced now that her muscles were stiff and tired. She opened the door, and found Will standing outside, an apologetic expression on his face.

"Will. You shouldn't..." She started, but Will interrupted her.

"I know, but I...I was worried."

"Worried?" She hadn't expected that.

"About you. Also, I wanted to ask you a few questions about those cards..."

"I don't want to talk about them." It wasn't quite true, the truth was that she was tired and didn't want to deal with Will right now. Not when she was feeling weak and vulnerable. Emma tried to closed the door, but Will stopped her with ease.

"Emma, please. It is important."

Emma relented and allowed Will to enter.

"Did you keep the cards?" Will asked her without bothering with pleasantries.

"Yes," Emma admitted, blushing despite herself.

"I need to see them."

"Why, Will? I understand they aren't from you, but what does it matter?"

"I'm just wondering why someone would send you cards and pretend to be me," Will answered, but something in his tone told her that he was holding back.

"I'll show them to you." Emma led the way into the study, trying to hide her limp as she went. She opened the drawer of her desk. "There they are."

An expression of surprise formed on Will's face as he saw the large stack of cards. He took the top off and opened it. The handwriting was definitely not his, but there was no way Emma could know that. What worried him much more was the intimate tone and the signature at the bottom of the card. It was clearly signed with his name.

"I think someone from the station should take a look at these," Will finally said and Emma could tell he was shaken up. But it did nothing to change to anger welling up inside herself.

"That's great, Will. Just great. I haven't heard from you in six months! You didn't have have the decency to send a card or drop by! And now you're acting all concerned. I wonder why that is?"

"I already told you I'm sorry..." Will started, but Emma cut him off.

"I want you to leave," Emma stated, keeping her voice as firm as possible.

Will nodded. "Okay." He turned and walked out of the study. It was only when he left that Emma allowed the tears to fall.

oOo

Will hadn't slept that night. He'd been up all night, thinking. By the time morning rolled around, he'd made a decision. As much as Emma wanted him to ignore this, he couldn't do that. He'd tried telling himself that there was no harm done, but if he was honest, the incident was creeping him out. The entire way home, he'd been tempted to glance back if someone was following him, watching him from a safe distance. Of course there had been no one. Who would follow him of all people? But the question why Emma's mysterious admirer hadn't used his own name - or if he wanted to remain anonymous, simply not signed his cards. Why had he used his name instead? Just a pick, or was it someone he knew. If it had just been one card, then maybe he'd be able to ignore the whole thing, but there had been several dozen cards in Emma's drawer. He had one card, the one he had been looking at when Emma had thrown him out. He could probably get someone from CSE to have a look at the card. But that was probably the end of the line. It wasn't even a proper case of stalking, especially since Emma most likely wasn't going to make a complaint. Identify theft was just as unlikely to lead anywhere, Will thought as he peered through the curtain out into the street. There was nothing out of the ordinary. He was becoming paranoid over this, he was sure. But, he'd decided to drop the matter and that was what he was going to do. No use in making things even worse between him and Emma, if that was even possible.

No, he was going to forget about this. At least he'd be able to return to work in a few days, even though he would be restricted to light duties for a while. At least that would distract him. After all, it had worked for six month, why should it stop working now?

oOo

But it had stopped working. As the day wore on, his thoughts frequently strayed to the very matter he was trying so hard to forget. Another physiotherapy session managed to take his mind off things for all of in hour, but as soon as he was finished at Dr. Careford's, his thoughts returned to Emma and the disturbing matter of the card's signed in his name. Finally as the afternoon stretched out interminably, he;d had enough. He wasn't sure what he'd tell his colleagues, without appearing paranoid and overprotective,m but he was worried about Emma, who he'd phoned but hadn't picked up. His mind up for the second time that day, will grabbed a jacket, slipped into it was his good arm while draping it over hos injured shoulder, made sure he had his keys on him and headed out the door. It was then that another problem occurred to him. It was pretty far to Sun Hill station and he wasn't even sure where he next bus stop was, let alone did he know the timetable. He could always take his bike, he reasoned. It wouldn't exactly be the prudent thing to do, not with his shoulder not being a hundred percent yet, but the injury itself had healed, it was just the mobility that was lacking at the moment, besides, he reason, it wasn't like he was go9ng to go off road or anything like that. His mind made up, he climbed onto his bike and started the engine.

oOo

He got as far as the nearest intersection when he noticed just how bad an idea taking the bike had been. he as approaching a red light up head, but when he tried to brake and slow down, nothing happened. He tried again, but nothing happened. He was going fast, far too fast and there seemed hardly time to contemplate his options. The intersection up ahead was a busy one,. He couldn't just run the red light, not without being caught in the traffic from the other direction. The sidewalk, he thought. But no, a small crowd of people was waiting to cross the road. No way he could pull over to the side, not when he couldn't stop. People might be injured, even killed. What else was left? Will tried to think past the panic, but it was as if his mind had frozen in shock and disbelief. He saw the red fiesta coming down the road, right in his path. Knowing he had no choice but the run the right light, he jerked his bike sharply to the right, straight into the path of a truck.

oOo

Emma woke up remarkably unrefreshed that morning with the distinct impression that she'd made a mistake. She wasn't sorry for throwing Will out. But now that her head had had a chance to cool, she was starting to worry and wonder about who'd really sent her the cards. Not just cards, there had been flowers, chocolates and other small gifts as well. She could always drag into Sun Hill station and report the matter, but she wasn't sure what the police could do about it. She wasn't even so sure that crime had been committed, But if she was honest with herself, the reason she was hesitating was that she was reluctant to return to the station, even if it was to make a complaint. Undoubtedly, she would encounter people she had worked with less than year ago every day. The contact to most of them had broken off after her release from the hospital, but she still spoke on the phone with some of them occasionally, Yeah, that was it, she'd call Dan and tell him what had happened. He;d probably have a better idea as well if filing a report would be any more than a waste of time. Emma shuffled across her apartment and picked up the phone. She speed-dialed the number of Dan's mobile. He picked up almost immediately,

"Dan? It's Emma. I was wondering if you had a moment. There is something I have ti talk to you about."

There was a long pause before Dan continued. "Can this wait until tonight? I will be getting off shift in an hour."

"Of course, I just...I didn't think." Emma felt stupid for not considering that at this time of the day, Dan was likely to be at work.

"Listen, I can come by your place." There was a strange urgency in Dan's tone that made Emma accept without question.

"Yeah, yeah, that's fine. I'll see you then." Before she had a chance to finish speaking, Dan hung up. She felt a little insulted at being cut off like this, but Dan had a job to do after all and she had probably just caught him at a bad moment, Still, he could just have called her back, why offer to visit her? Dan had never been at her place, not that she could recall at least.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

oOo

More than just a bit unsettled by Dan's behavior on the phone, Emma soon felt restless. Even though it would probably be the best thing for her to lie down and get some rest, in view of Dan's upcoming visit, Emma found herself unable to relax. Physically, she was tired, but her mind wouldn't let her rest. As she was watching the minutes crawl past on the wall clock opposite the couch, she was growing increasingly worried.

Turning over the phone conversation in her mind for the umpteenth time, she felt more than ever convinced that something terrible had to have happened. More than once, Emma had thought of picking up the phone and ringing Dan back but every time she'd decided against it. Dan had work to do and he was coming by later, so there was really no reason for her to disturb him again.

After about an hour, Emma finally gave up on the idea of resting and got up from the couch. She limped into the kitchen and began washing the dishes that were left from earlier in the day. She always dreaded the activity, as it made her very aware of how lacking her co-ordination still was. But despite that, she was glad that she was finally able to live on her own again. After she'd been released from hospital, she had stayed with her father for a while. But according to her therapist she was making good progress, so around two months ago, she had moved back into her old flat, where she had lived before moving in with Matt. She hardly recalled anything about her husband, aside from what she had been told by others, despite having regained some of her lost memories. She had only been to their shared apartment once. The visit had been suggested by her psychologist in an effort to help her remember more about her life prior to the attack. It hadn't worked, but even though she recalled nothing about the night of the shooting, the place had given her the creeps and she had gladly agreed with Matt's parents who wanted to put the place on the market again as soon as possible.

oOo

After finishing the dishes, Emma checked her wristwatch and was disappointed to find that only twenty more minutes had passed. Dan wouldn't be coming off shift for another two hours at least. Emma aimlessly checked her fridge and finding it mostly devoid of food, decided to pop down to the supermarket. It was another one of those things she had the tendency to avoid, but it would make for a good way to pass the time while doing something useful.

oOo

By the time Emma turned into the street where her flat was located, she was dead exhausted and by far no longer convinced that the shopping trip had been a good idea. Distracted as she had been, she had forgotten to take her backpack with her as she usually did when she went shopping. As she only had full use of one of her arms, it was the easiest way to carry things. Now she had been forced to carry her purchases home in two flimsy plastic bags from the supermarket. Carrying them both with her good arm, she struggled to maintain her balance as she walked. She was less than ten meters from the front door of her building when one of the plastic bags gave way and its contents spilled all over the sidewalk. Emma swore under her breath as she struggled to bend down and begin retrieving the fallen items. Luckily nothing fragile had been in the bag. Emma was trying to fit a net of oranges into her second bag, when she heard someone calling her name. Emma looked up and saw her next door neighbor approaching. He waved to her, then hurried to meet her.

"You look like you could use a hand?" he said with a smile.

"That would be very kind of you," Emma replied while Brian had already retrieved a carton of cereal from the pavement.

With Brian's help it took less than five minutes for them to collect everything from the ground and rearrange the second bag to fit everything inside.

"I can carry this inside for you," Brian offered once they were done.

"Again, I'd appreciate it," Emma said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She didn't like depending on others for help, not when she had worked so hard to get her life back together. But with her back aching and her muscles strained, she was secretly glad for the help. Brian led the way inside the building and Emma followed him, trying to hide her limp even though Brian couldn't see her.

Brian stopped in front of the door to her apartment and waited for Emma to catch up.

"I can manage, really." Emma moved to take the bag from him, but couldn't disguise that her hands were shaking badly. The way things were going, she would be lucky if she managed to unlock the door.

Brian wouldn't have any of it. He waited patiently for her to fumble the key into the lock, then followed her inside.

"Where do you want me to put them?" he asked once inside the narrow hallway.

Emma led the way into the kitchen. Brian followed and put the bag on the table.

"Thank you so much," Emma said, meaning ever word of it. "Can I offer you a cup of tea?"

Brian was about to respond when the door bell rang.

"Excuse me," Emma said, and made her way back to the front door. Aside from Dan she wasn't expecting any visitors and she doubted he would be off work already, but when she opened the door, it was Dan standing outside.

"Hi Dan," Emma said, trying to sound upbeat when in reality, she only felt tired and awkward.

"Emma," Dan acknowledged. Emma moved aside to allow him inside. He took a few steps inside the hallway, when he suddenly stopped.

"Dan, what is it?" Emma asked, joining up to him.

"What is going on here?" Dan asked in a low voice, indicating Brian who was wearing a shocked expression of his own.

Emma was puzzled. "What do you mean?" She looked from Dan to Brian and back. "What's wrong?"

"Emma, get behind me," he said seriously. Emma took her eyes of him and was stunned to see Brian suddenly holding a small handgun. Her mind was screaming at her to do as Dan had said, but her body seemed frozen in place, incapable of any voluntary movement.

"She stays exactly where she is," Brian said, his voice now cold and hard. "I should have known one of you was going to show up. I just didn't think it'd be this soon."

"Who are you?" Emma finally managed to speak.

"Tell her!" Brian indicated Dan.

"He's one of the people responsible for shooting you and killing Matt." Emma couldn't believe it. If what Dan was saying was true, why had she not noticed? She hadn't had much contact with Brian until today, but wouldn't have seeing him jogged her memory somehow? It was all blank, even now that Dan had told her. She couldn't remember a thing. It was all gone. She had known that one of her attackers was still at large, but she hadn't really worried about it. That was until she had learned that the cards hadn't been from Will after all. The thought had crossed her mind then, but she had immediately suppressed it, unable to deal with it at the moment.

"What do you want?" Emma asked Brian. Much to her surprise, her voice sounded steadier than she felt.

"I want to make it up to you."

"Make what up?" Emma asked in confusion.

"Didn't you hear what he told you?" Brian asked, referring obviously to Dan. "Matt deserved to die, but hurting you was never what I wanted. I'm sorry, Emma. I want to make it up to you," he repeated. "I want you to come with me."

"Trust me, that is not going to happen," Dan ground out. "She is not going anywhere and the only place you are going is jail."

"Are you so sure of that, PC Casper? I am the one holding the gun," he'd barely finished speaking when he pulled the trigger. Obviously, Dan hadn't thought that Brian or whatever his real name was would actually be going to make use of his gun, as the shot seemed to take him completely by surprise. Thrown back by the impact, he tumbled against Emma, who lost her balance and they both went down to the floor.

Dan recovered his wits before Emma did.

"Run!" he instructed her while she was still reeling from the shock of what had just happened. Emma tried to get to her feet, a task very much hampered by her lack of coordination. Before she could get even half way towards the door, Brian had gripped her arm, easily preventing her from escaping.

"Don't even think about it," he threatened as Dan got back to his feet, probably ready to charge at Brian, despite the bloody stain that was forming on his shoulder.

"Just calm down, okay," Dan backed away a few steps unsteadily. "There is no need for Emma to get hurt."

"She won't, not if you both do exactly as I say. You," Brian used the gun to indicate Dan."Give me your mobile."

Dan complied wordlessly while Emma watched and shock made way to increasing panic. She was starting to feel faint. Brian pocketed Dan's cell phone. "In the kitchen, both of you."

Half-dragged by Brian who never moved the gun from where it was trained on her head, Emma made it into the kitchen. Her limbs were shaking worse than ever and her coordination troubles were exacerbated by stress, fatigue and panic.

Once in the other room, Brian ordered Dan to sit down on the chair next to the table and told Emma to tie him up using a role of duct tape that Brian produced from his pocket. The task seemed to take her forever, as she struggled with trembling hands. Brian kept close to both of them, still threatening them with his gun. Even if Emma had wanted to, there was no way to make it easier for Dan to escape under Brian's watchful eye. Finally Emma was done. Brian told her to step back, while he examined the tape, presumably checking that Dan was tied up securely. Emma feverishly wracked her brain for some way out of this mess, but even if she got the chance to make a run for it, she would never be able to outrun Brian. Plus, she had to think of Dan as well. He had already been shot and even though he was putting on a brave front, he was bleeding pretty badly from the wound.

Before Emma could come to any conclusion about the best course of action, Brian was already done with Dan and turned his attention and gun back to her.

"Is there a key for this room?" he asked.

Emma nodded and pointed to the door. She kept the key in the lock, not having any real use for it.

"Well, let's go then," Brian decided and ushered Emma out of the door, locking it behind them.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

oOo

Dan would have given himself a good hard kick had he been physically able to do so. However as matters stood, he was tied securely to a chair in Emma's kitchen, his wrists taped together behind his back and his legs taped firmly to the legs of the chair.

There was no way he could wriggle himself free, much less with an injured shoulder. The piece of tape stuck across his mouth made shouting for help another option not currently available to him. All in all, he was in deep trouble, not least because the wound to his shoulder was still bleeding slowly but steadily, leaving an ever growing stain on the floor beneath him.

Dan cast his gaze around the room for the umpteenth time, searching for something - anything that would help him get out of his mess alive. It didn't help that it was almost dark outside and Brian hadn't had the courtesy of leaving the light on. A car passed outside, its headlights briefly illuminating the room. Dan spotted a bright glint of light on the counter, but before he could see what it was exactly, the car had already driven past, casting the room in darkness once again, but it had looked a lot like a blade or knife of some kind. If he could just get across the room and reach for it, he might be able to free himself. Of course, it was a long shot, but after some trying on his part, he was able to move the chair towards the counter in tiny increments. It would take him a long time to actually reach his destination and then there would still be the problem of reaching the knife and freeing himself, but at least now he had something to work towards.

oOo

Brian's car was parked at the curb just a few meters from the front door of the apartment building, still the distance seemed impossibly vast to Emma. She felt as if she had been thrown back to when she was first beginning to walk again, unsteady and uncoordinated, unable to keep upright without support. She had come a long way in the months since, but right now, Brian was carrying the majority of her weight as he dragged her outside and towards his car, his gun still digging into her side. Even without it, Emma would have had no strength to fight off her kidnapper. He half steered half dragged her to his car and almost gently helped her into the passenger seat before he got into the driver's seat. For a few moments, while the gun wasn't trained on her, Emma thought of escape, but not only risked she getting shot at fatally close range, but she also didn't stand a fighting chance of succeeding. Her only hope now rested with Dan, hoping and praying that he would find a way to free himself and get help for both of them. The slamming car door tore Emma from her thoughts as she watched Brian turn to her inside the car..

"I'm sorry Emma, but I promise you, it's only for your safety."

Emma was about to ask him what he meant, when she felt the prick of a needle in her upper arm. Looking down, she saw that Brian had stabbed her with a syringe.

"What..." she tried to protest but whatever Brian must have given her was working awfully fast. Her tongue and entire body were rapidly growing numb and heavy. Soon, her head lolled to rest against her chest, and she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. As if in the far distance, she heard the engine start and then knew nothing more.

oOo

Dan's effort were slowly but surely bearing fruit. Although it had taken him a good twenty-five minutes according to the digital clock on the microwave oven above the fridge, he had finally managed to scuttle across the room, until the chair was with its back against the counter. Getting the knife proved to be trickier. The handle slightly hung over the edge of the counter, so he was able to topple the chair forwards and grab the knife with his hands behind his back. He cut himself too many times to count as he tried to saw through the tape, but finally after many pauses, he had succeeded in freeing his hands. He couldn't suppress the cry of pain when he moved his injured shoulder, but he wasn't deterred. Freeing his legs only took a matter of moments and finally, he was able to stand up. As he did so, he nearly fell flat on his face, as a rush of dizziness overcame him, no doubt due to blood loss. At any rate the kitchen looked like the site of a massacre. Blood had dripped and been smeared all over the floor. His clothes were bloodied as well and looking at the amount, he was sure that it was only a matter of time until blood loss became a serious problem. He was already feeling cold and faint. Since the door was locked, Dan tried the window, but it wasn't designed to be opened fully and it didn't open far enough to allow him to slid through. He had to take his chances with the door. Thankfully, it looked fairly thin and not too solid. Still, it took him several tries to kick it in. He stumbled into the hallway, completely exhausted from the combination of physical effort and bleeding. Using the wall to support himself he searched for the phone. He didn't have to look long, it stood on a small table near the door. Calling on reserves of strength he didn't know he had, he managed to dial the station.

oOo

"That doesn't look like an arson investigation to me,"

"Guv?" Mickey Webb looked up from the report he was poring over on his desk in the CID office. It was way after hours and Mickey hadn't expected to have to DCI or anyone else for that matter dropping on him, not with almost the whole station staking out what were believed to be the serial arsonist's next targets in Sun Hill.

"What are you working on?" Jack asked amicably.

"Nothing much," Mickey replied. "I was just going over the accident investigator's report of Will Fletcher's bike accident."

"There is a report already? I haven't gotten one."

"Not exactly. I know someone from accident investigations and they faxed me a preliminary report of their findings. It's not much, but it's pretty interesting," Mickey commented.

"Can I have a look?"

"Sure," Mickey handed Jack the report.

Jack scanned the single page attentively,

"I see what you mean," Jack eventually said and put the report back on Mickey's desk. "But I can't see Will making that kind of mistake. The report confirms that he hadn't been drinking, so unless he deliberately caused the collision, I don't see how this could have happened."

"Me neither. There must have been something that made him drive into the path of that truck," Mickey suggested.

"There is no mention of any witnesses, but I wonder if anyone saw what happened. Might be worth checking if there is a traffic camera at the intersection where the accident happened."

"What are you thinking of?" Mickey asked, wanting to know if there were on the same page.

"Well, we both agree that there is something not right about this. Might be some sort of mechanical failure..." Jack trailed off. Mickey was pretty sure he knew what the other man was thinking of. For the accident investigation squad it might be a clear case of human error, but they didn't know Will.

"I don't suppose Will is in any shape to tell us what happened?" Jack wondered out loud, interrupting Mickey's train of thought.

"Last I heard, he was still unconscious. They promised to give me a call as soon as he wakes up."

"I see you're well on top of this from the looks of it," Jack commented. "But aren't you supposed to be on stake-out tonight?"

Before Mickey could reply, Inspector Gold walked into the CID office. From the expression on her face, both men could tell that something was seriously wrong.

"Gina, what is it?"

"CAD just got a call from PC Casper. From what they could gather, he's just been attacked."

"Attacked? When did that happen?" Jack asked.

"We don't know yet. But we do know that he made the call to CAD from Emma Keane's flat. I've sent Roger and Lewis there now since they were closest, but I really don't have any officer's to spare on this right now."

"Then we're in the same boat, but DC Webb and I have just been discussing PC Fletcher's accident today and I have a feeling this might be connected."

"How so? It was an accident, wasn't it?"

"Officially, that will be up to accident investigations squad to determine, but you have to admit that it is certainly a rather big coincidence. At any rate, I think I should have a look at this myself."

"I'd like to come if you don't mind," Mickey said.

"Sure," Jack replied.

"I'll let Roger and Lewis know that you're coming," Inspector Gold told them. Mickey grabbed his jacket and followed Jack and the inspector out.

oOo

"Wow, I say something happened in here," Jack commented as he looked past the bashed in front door into the hallway. The carpet was covered in bloody stains and footprints. More bloody smears were on the wall and around a small table where a telephone stood. The door at the end of the hallway also looked like it has been forcibly kicked in.

He turned to Roger Valentine who had been waiting for them on the scene. "Any idea what happened here?"

"The front door was broken down by the paramedics, but as for what happened in her, I have no idea. We are still waiting for SOCO. Lewis is gone knocking on some doors to see if anyone saw or heard something."

"You searched the flat?" Mickey asked.

"We did," Roger confirmed "It was empty by the time we got here. Dan has been taken to St. Hugh's but there is no sign of Emma anywhere. We don't know what we're dealing with here."

"Mickey, I want you to go down to St. Hugh's and get an update on Dan's condition. Get the story from him, if you can and let us know immediate if something develops." Jack instructed. "I think I better call Emma's father. Maybe he's heard from her."

"I'll keep you posted then," Mickey said and ducked back out of the flat, nearly bumping into Lewis on his way.

oOo

It had taken nearly all of Mickey's persuasive powers to talk the young physician on shift into letting him speak to Dan who was at the moment recovering from surgery to remove a bullet from his shoulder. Mickey had only been allowed five minutes, so he intended to make the most of them. Their priority had to be discovering the identity of the shooter and finding out what had happened to Emma. Mickey had the distinct feeling that the Dan's shooting and Emma's disappearance were connected and that in all likelihood they were looking for only one person.

"Dan?" Mickey asked softly, hoping he'd be able to rouse Dan despite the lingering effect of the anesthetic.

Dan only groaned weakly in response.

"Dan! Can you hear me?" he spoke louder this time, hoping to get a more coherent response from Dan.

"Yeah. " Dan replied in a tired voice, still not opening his eyes.

"It's DC Webb. Listen Dan, you're in hospital. You were attacked earlier tonight."

"Shot?" It sounded like a question.

"Yes, you were shot. But you're going to be all right. Can you tell me who shot you?"

"He wanted to make it up to her. That's why he took her. You have to find her before..." Dan replied incoherently and Mickey could only assume that he was talking about Emma and not just rambling on deliriously.

"Who? Who took her? Was it the same person who shot you?"

"Yes, recognized him, but Emma didn't. She doesn't remember."

Mickey tried to quell his rising frustration. Maybe the doctor had been right and it was too early.

"A name. I need to know his name, Dan." He tried again.

"Matt, he shot Matt, too." Dan said, his drugged mind obviously mixing past and present events.

"You sure?" Mickey couldn't help but ask. Dan seemed to be in a pretty bad way and they needed to be sure.

"Positive." Dan only replied. "It was him. He's...he's been living next door all along." The last bit didn't make sense to Mickey at the moment, but he had no time to press Dan further. He had found out what he had come for. Jack was going to be livid when he found out. They had always assumed that the man had left the area, perhaps gone underground. There was still an active warrant out for his arrest, but the search died down in the months that had elapsed since Matt's murder.

"Dan, I need to go now. You just rest and get better, okay?"

Deep in thought, he left Dan's bedside. With the new information, his earlier suspicions about Will's accident only seemed to be validated. It would be very unlikely if Will's accident had been just that – an accident. He didn't know the full story of why and how Dan had been injured yet beyond what the doctors had told him, but it was no stretch of imagination to think that the same man was behind both murder attempts, The only question now was, what did he want from Emma? They had always assumed that Matt had been the intended target and that they had only tried to get rid of Emma out of fear she could identify them. But Emma had no memory of the shooting of most of the subsequent events, so why had he abducted her? Mickey was convinced that once they had answered that question, they would know where to find Emma. He could only hope that by then, it wouldn't be too late already.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

oOo

Waking up was a slow process. The steady drum of rain on the car's roof offered to lull her back into drug-assisted sleep, but there was something vague and indistinct nagging at the back of her mind that wouldn't let her return to oblivion. She didn't know what it was at first that filled her with a certain unease and sense of danger. Memory only returned when she finally managed to open her eyes, lids heavy and unwilling. Her entire body felt heavy and slightly numb as if still half-asleep. Her vision was blurred at first, but soon resolved into the interior of a car. Initial confusion soon made way to barely suppressed panic as more and more pieces of memory joined together in her mind and she recalled the events that had led to her being stuck in a car with a dangerous criminal. Except that Brian or whatever his name really was, was nowhere to be seen. She was alone in the car. She glanced out the window. It was dark outside, but Emma could still see that they were at a petrol station.

Holding her breath, Emma tried the door. Much to her surprise, it wasn't locked. She opened it and climbed outside. A fine drizzle of rain was falling and the cool night air made her shiver slightly. She looked around once more, but there weren't any other cars to be seen. No one she could ask for help. The lit windows of a small shop were visible nearby. Emma made up her mind. She had no idea where Brian had gone. It was possible he was inside the shop this very moment. Very probably armed as well, it occurred to her. She didn't want anyone else getting hurt, but staying with Brian wasn't an option either. She had no idea what he had in store for her. He didn't seem to be out to kill her. If that was what he wanted, he could have done so already. But whatever his plans were, Emma didn't plan on sticking around to find out.

oOo

The bright light inside the shop made Emma blink at first, her eyes rather accustomed to the darkness by now. Once her eyes had adjusted to the light, she cast around a searching glance, her heart pounding hard in her chest. Brian was nowhere to be seen. A bored looking man in his twenties with bad skin was standing behind the counter, reading a gossip magazine. Straightening herself, Emma walked over to him, pondering what she was going to say to him. She was almost at the counter, although the attendant still seemed immersed in his reading when a voice called her name.

"Emma!"

Panic shot through her as she turned around. Brian had entered the shop and was staring at her with a mixture of shock and anger.

"You really should have waited for me in the calm," Brian said, his voice calm, but with a dangerous undercurrent.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma could see the attendant looking up from his magazine and regarding them with a listless expression on his face.

"Come on back to the car." The words came out as an order.

Emma wanted to run, call for help, do anything, but she couldn't. It was as if her body was frozen in place.

"Emma? What's wrong, darling?" Brian called to her.

Hearing the term of endearment out of the mouth of the man who had killed her husband unleashed a wave of anger within her and the spell was broken. Emma turned away from Brian and back to the man behind the counter. With a speed she didn't know she was capable off, she crossed the remainder of the distance.

The attendant had to have picked up on part of what was going on, because when Emma came over to him, he asked.

"Is there a problem?"

Emma nodded. "Please, I know it's going to sound crazy, but he's kidnapped me. You have to believe me. Please..." Emma was about to ask him to phone the police when a shot rang out and a bullet buried itself in the wall above the counter. The attendant let out a scream.

"Shut up!" Brian ordered. "You really shouldn't have left the car. Get over here," he ordered, training the gun on Emma.

"Please don't shoot me!" the attendant whimpered.

"Shut up!" Brian yelled his voice growing increasingly frantic. This clearly hadn't been part of the plan. He wildly waved the gun at them, no longer maintaining his aim. He seemed to be trying to figure out what to do.

Suddenly the tense silence was broken when the door opened with the ring of a bell. Brian whirled around to face the newcomers, gun still in hand. It couldn't have been worse luck for the criminal, as the two men who'd stepped inside were uniformed police officers.

oOo

Mickey flipped his phone shut and replaced the device in the pocket of his jacket. Jack had told him that there was nothing to do for him at the moment and that he should go home, but Mickey had no intention of obeying this particular order. He had filled Jack in on what Dan had told him during his brief visit and Jack had agreed that despite Dan's condition, they needed to take his statement very seriously. Mickey hesitated only briefly, then bought a chocolate bar from a vending machine and headed back out to the car park.

There was one thing that Dan had said that wouldn't leave him alone. He wasn't sure it made any sense, but Dan had said that the killer had lived next to Emma all along. Jack had pretty much dismissed the remark when Mickey had told him over the phone, but Mickey wasn't so quick to doubt the other man's word. Sure, Dan had been under the influence of pretty strong drugs when they had spoken, but Mickey believed that he must have had a reason for mentioning it, even if he had been confused. At any rate, it would not hurt to check out Emma's neighbors, see who was who in the building and who had a criminal record.

oOo

By the time Mickey arrived back at Emma's building, it was close to midnight. On the way there, he'd made several phone calls, and was now fairly well in the picture where the other tenants of the building were concerned. Checks at revealed some petty stuff, but no one with a serious criminal record. Of course, Mickey had not expected Emma's abductor to be found so easily. If he had gone undetected right under their noses for so long, he had to be smart and good at covering his tracks. With the right contacts, fake papers were easy enough to come by, and with reasonable precautions, Mickey could see how he had evaded arrest. Still, he was in the dark about the man's motive. Why risk getting caught when he could have simply left town and started a new life somewhere else. He obviously had access to the necessary resources and Mickey was almost certain that he had a good bit of money stashed away somewhere.

Mickey parked his car at the curb and walked up to the building. Very few windows were still light and darkness had settled over the building. Mickey entered the hallway and walked down the the door leading to Emma's flat. There were two flats adjacent to it. One on the opposite side of the hallway, the other next to hers. Conscious of the late hour, Mickey rang the door of the flat next to Emma's, deciding the take Dan's statement literal for the moment. If that didn't yield anything, he could always give the other flat a try. The name on the door said 'Brian Craig' and according the the checks Nikki had ran for him, Brian Craig was a model citizen, without so much as a traffic ticket on his record. There were other things that weren't on his record either that had arroused Mickey's curiosity. According to what Nikki had been able to dig up, Brian had no job, didn't get welfare or other benefits and had no family whatsoever. The perfect nobody.

As Mickey had expected, he got no answer at the door. Slightly deflated, he was about to turn away when he caught a glimpse of a doormat. Thinking it couldn't hurt, he looked underneath and promptly found a key. Crooks weren't what they used to be either, he thought as he inserted the key into the lock. It fit and a moment later, Mickey had unlocked the door. It was dark inside and now Mickey regretted not having brought a torch from the car with him. If he was wrong about this and Brian Craig really was a model citizen, he could be in a lot of trouble. Still, he had a gut feeling about this guy and there was too much at stake to delay any action.

Leaving the door ajar, Mickey inched down the corridor, deeper into the flat. He stopped and listened every few steps, but everything was silent. The flats in the building all appeared to have the same layout and Mickey was quickly able to verify that the bedroom was empty. The bed hadn't been slept in from the looks of it. Relaxing slightly, Mickey explored the rest of the flat and found it empty as well. Confident that his hunch had been right, he switched the light on in the corridor in order to get a better idea of his surroundings. There really wasn't much to see. Everything was neat and tidy and although the furnishings looked cheap and rather worn, they had been assembled with taste. The only thing that struck him as odd in his explorations of the bed room and the living room was the total lack of anything that would give the flat a personal touch. No pictures, no books. He noted a laptop computer on a table on the living room and made a mental note to check it out later.

When Mickey stepped into the kitchen, one of the first things he noticed now that the lights were on, was the large freezer chest in the corner of the room. Alarm bells began blaring inside his head as he walked over to it. Lifting the lid, Mickey wasn't too surprised at what he found. Inside the freezer was the curled up body of a young man. No doubt that was the real Brian Craig. Suppressing a sigh, Mickey pulled out his cell phone to inform Jack. The DCI wouldn't be too pleased that he had been snooping around on his own, but uncovering a murder should make up for it. Unfortunately, this wasn't getting them anywhere as far as the search for Emma was concerned. It only brought again to mind the unwelcome thought of just how ruthless and dangerous the man they were dealing with was.

oOo

Not long after his phone call to Jack Meadows, Mickey was joined by the other man at the scene of the murder. While waiting for SOCO and the DCI, Mickey had continued to look around. Underneath a large rug in the living room, he had found a suspicious stain which the crime scene examiners would have to test first, but Mickey was pretty sure it was blood. It was probably there that the real Brian Craig had been killed.

"I remember telling you to go home," Jack remarked in lieu of a greeting as he stepped into the bedroom were Mickey had been going through the computer.

"Sorry, guv, but I had this hunch that Dan meant what he said and..."

"And it played out. But you should have told someone where you were going," Jack reproached. "You could have walked into a hostage situation here."

"I doubt that. I think that he's long gone."

"We thought that before and he's been under our noses the entire time. What makes you sure he's left this time?" Jack questioned.

"I have been looking through his computer and there is tons of stuff on Emma. Pictures mainly, but also articles regarding Matt's murder and everything else that happened. I think he was here because of her and he murdered the real Brian Craig to get closer to her."

"He might have caused Will's accident for the same reason, assuming that it was sabotage of course."

"I can't really see what else it could have been," Mickey said, recalling their earlier conversation.

"Well that is a question we won't be able to answer just now. We won't have the footage from the CCTV and traffic cameras before tomorrow and it might not lead anywhere. What matters more at the moment is finding Emma. Is there anything on the computer that might tell us where he might be taking her."

"No, nothing. His Internet history has been wiped. Tech support might be able to restore it though."

"That could take weeks," Jack said with a sigh. He was about to continue, when one of the crime scene technicians knocked on the door frame.

"What do you have?" Jack asked curtly.

"We have been able to identify the crime scene. DC Webb was right. Your man was definitely killed in the living room. They tried to get the stain out with bleach, but that never works. It does destroy DNA though."

"So that means we won't be able to get a DNA match on the blood?"

"Probably not. But I doubt you are going to need it. We found the murder weapon. It was in the freezer underneath the body. He was killed with this," Lorna showed them a plastic evidence bag containing a small statue.

"From the looks of it, there are a couple of clear prints on it. Should net you a nice ID," Lorna said.

In that moment, Jack's cell phone rang. He answered immediately. Mickey tried to guess what was being said on the other end, but Jack's one word answers didn't yield many clues. After only a few seconds, Jack ended the conversation. He turned to Mickey.

"They've spotted him at a gas station near Oxford."

"Emma?" Mickey asked, concerned about the former colleague.

"We don't know. All we do know is that he's taken several hostages, among them two Oxford police officers."

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

oOo

PC Martin Short hadn't expected to walk in on an armed robbery when his beat partner PC Leland Drew had suggested to drop by the petrol station to get some aspirin for the other man's headache. Only a moment before coming face to face with the armed man, he had been making a joke about how unusually quiet the night had been so far, but any thought of joking vanished from his mind, as his trained senses took in the scene in front of them.

There were three people in the shop, standing clustered by the counter. One of them, a young man was standing behind the counter and his blue tee-shirt with the shop's logo easily gave him away as an employee of the petrol station. He appeared frozen in shock, staring motionlessly at Martin and his partner. Martin quickly shifted his attention to the other two people – a dark-haired man in his thirties and a younger woman with light brown hair. The man was clearly the main threat. It was him pointing the gun at them. From the way he was holding the weapon and the position of his body suggested that this was not his first time handling a gun. His aim was steady, centered mid-body. The role of the young woman wasn't so obvious. There was a strange expression on her face as she looked at Martin and his partner. Martin couldn't quite figure out how to read it. She could be either an accomplice or an unwitting bystander, but the way her eyes were darting from the gunman to the officers and back suggested to him that she knew the gunman.

Time seemed to stand still as each side took in the new development and seized up the other party, trying to assess the threat. It was the woman's voice who broke the tension filled silence.

"Get do..." she yelled. Her tone didn't carry a threat, instead it was desperate and almost pleading. A moment's confusion on Martin's part quickly made way to trained reflexed as he ducked just in time to avoid the bullet that shattered the glass door in the place where his head had just been. A second shot followed immediately in the wake of the first and this time, it struck its target dead center. Martin was powerless to watch as his Leland crumpled to the floor next to him, his neck reduced to a bloody mass. Temporarily forgetting all about the gunman, Martin bent over his fallen partner. The other man's blue eyes regarded him in shock and surprise. His mouth moved and blood spillt down his chin, but no sound came out. There were a hundred things Martin meant to say, but all that came out were garbled reassurances that he already knew to be a lie.

He didn't know why, but suddenly it registered in his mind that he was still in very real danger. Martin tore his gaze from the dead body of his partner and looked up. He immediately scolded himself for allowing himself to be distracted as he saw that the gunman was now coming towards him, dragging the woman with him. He stopped a few steps short of him, keeping the gun pointed at him.

"Go 'cuff him," he ordered the woman. "Hands behind the back."

The woman approached in uncertain steps. There seemed to be something not quite right with her legs as she was slightly dragging her left leg. She briefly glanced down and Martin had to force himself not to follow her gaze. There was nothing he could do for Leland and he couldn't afford to be distracted again. He met the woman's eyes head-on, still trying to figure out her role in all this. She looked frightened, but also somehow resigned.

"I...I need your handcuffs." Her voice interrupted his thoughts. That was his problem, Martin thought, he could get so wrapped up in analyzing people that he literally forgot everything else. His sergeant had told him that one day he'd get into trouble for his habit. It seemed like that day was today.

He took the handcuffs from his belt and handed them to the woman. Turning slightly, he allowed her to handcuff him.

oOo

The way her hands were shaking, Emma thought she would never manage to handcuff the police officer, but as soon as she had the handcuffs in hand, her fingers knew what to do and she was able to quickly secure the man's arms behind his back. He must have noticed that she wasn't doing this for the first time, as the young constable shot her a bewildered look. Emma tried to meet it with a reassured glance on her part, but the truth was that she was scared. There was a good chance that none of them would get out of this alive. It was only a matter of time until someone else became aware of what was going on and alerted the police and there was no telling what else Brian would do if he felt cornered.

"Take off his belt and put it on the floor," Brian ordered, indicating Emma with his gun. Emma complied quickly, always conscious of the loaded weapon trained on her.

"Come over here. Slowly." Both Emma and the police constable took a tentative step towards Brian.

"Not you, Emma," Brian corrected impatiently and Emma promptly froze in her tracks. Following Brian's instructions, Emma proceeded to block the door. Brian wasn't just ruthless, he was smart too, Emma realized when he ordered her to drag to dead body out of sight behind a shelf. She kept casting discreet looks out through the shattered glass of the door, even though she wasn't sure what she was hoping for. The arrival of the police officers had made the situation considerably worse and she didn't want anyone else getting hurt. At the same time, the sooner the authorities were alerted, the sooner this all would come to an end, one way or another. On some level, Emma had had enough. Who was Brian to come and ruin her life? Emma had to quell her rising anger, reminding herself that hers was not the only life at stake.

Once the dead body was out of sight, Brian instructed her to lock the doors and hang up the 'closed' sign in the window and then block the door with two racks that held cards and maps. The barricade would not be very effective in keeping anyone out, as most of the glass door was on the floor in pieces, but they at least blocked the view and hid the blood-smears on the floor.

oOo

It was only when Martin heard the gunman address the woman by name, that he recalled the alert they had received over the radio four hours earlier. The alert had given a description and index of a blue subcompact, along with the descriptions of the two people believed to be traveling in the vehicle. Not only did their physical descriptions match, exactly, right down to what the woman was wearing, her name had been given as Emma Keane, making Martin certain that she was part of the duo of kidnapper and hostage that the London colleagues were looking for. It was Leland who, at the time when they'd received the alert, had mentioned reading something about the case involving Emma Keane in the papers some six months earlier. Martin now wished he had paid more attention to what his partner was saying, but he did recall that the man currently holding a gun to his head was thought to have committed at least two murders. Three, including Leland, Martin thought, the reality of his partner's death not having sunken in yet.

He had been forced to watch motionlessly as Emma carried out the gunman's instructions. Watching her, it was obvious that it wasn't just her walking that was somewhat impaired. She seemed to have trouble using her left arm and hand as well. She was still working on shifting a rack holding an assortment of maps, when the tense silence was broken by the faint ringing of a phone.

Taking the gun off Martin, the gunman whirled around to face the gas station attendant who was still standing behind the counter.

"Where is it?" he barked.

"Wh...?" the attendant stuttered.

"The phone, you idiot!"

"In...in the staffroom." The attendant indicated a door behind him. The phone continued to ring.

"Make it stop! Now!"

The attendant didn't move.

"Maybe we should all go back there. It would be a lot safer than being out here," Emma suddenly suggested, her voice sounding almost calm.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then the gunman nodded. "That is a good idea," he agreed.

oOo

The phone was still ringing when they were all assembled in the back room. It was a small windowless room, furnished only with a table and two chairs. A jacket, presumably that of the attendant was slung over the back of one of the chairs. The desk was cluttered with folders, papers and pens. Sitting amidst the mess was the phone.

"Unplug it!" Brian ordered, addressing no one in particular.

"I don't think this is such a good idea...," Emma began, but was cut off by Brian's furious voice.

"Unplug it!"

Emma hastily complied, her shaking hands struggling to pull the plug out of the socket in the wall.

"She is right," the young officer spoke for the first time.

"Did I tell either of you two to talk? Just shut up! I need to think!"

Realizing that at least for the moment, talk would be futile, Emma settled to sit down in a corner, her back against the wall. She wasn't used to standing for such long periods of time and she could still feel the lingering effects of whatever drug Brian had injected her with. Hesitantly, the other two hostages joined her, leaving Brian the only one standing in the room. He was pacing nervously, gun in hand.

oOo

The Oxford police had set up a mobile command post on the top floor of a warehouse across the street from the petrol station. A PC showed Jack and Mickey inside and pointed out the man in charge. Jack quickly crossed the room, followed by Mickey.

"DCI Rayner?" he asked. The man in question turned around.

"I'm DCI Meadows from Sun Hill. This is DC Webb. We spoke on the phone."

"Indeed we did. Good to have you both here. We need all the help we can get on this one," Rayner said amicably, appearing genuinely pleased by their presence.

"What do you know so far?" Jack asked.

"Not much I'm afraid," Rayner replied. "We are fairly sure that there are four hostages and we have tentatively ID-ed them. Aside from Emma Keane, there are two of my officers in there, PCs Short and Drew, and the petrol station attendant, Steven Morris. At least that is the name that the supervisor gave us. We don't think there is anyone else in there and we've managed to account for all the cars parked at the petrol station and in the immediate vicinity. Of course, someone could have come into the shop on foot, but in this area, it's not very likely. There is practically no foot traffic."

"Good." Jack nodded.

"Who tipped you off to what happened?" Mickey asked.

"That's where it gets interesting. We received an anonymous phone call. It was pretty garbled and we couldn't make sense of it at first, but we were able to triangulate the call and there is a good chance it either came from the shop or somewhere nearby."

"One of the hostages?"

"Most likely." Rayner nodded.

"The attendant," Jack surmised.

"I believe so. Of course, it might have been someone who saw what happened and got away. In that case, we need to find them."

"Okay, but let's concentrate at the task at hand, shall we." Jack steered the conversation back on topic. Rayner shot him a sharp look, but appeared to take it in stride. "Do we know what's going on in there at all?"

Rayner handed Jack a pair of binoculars. Jack stepped up to the window and looked through the binoculars.

"The shop seems to be empty," he finally said and lowered the binoculars. "Is there anything in the back of the building."

"Yes, we had a look at the plans. There is a small room behind the shop. It's most likely that he's holed up back there."

"Excuse me," a red-headed woman stepped up to them.

"Yes, DS Abnett?" Rayner turned to her.

"The footage from the heat cameras, it's ready."

Mickey and Jack followed Rayner and the sergeant to a desk where several laptop computers had been set up.

"The images aren't very good. There are various objects in the shop emitting heat profiles that disturb the view of the back," she explained.

"You mean things like fridges?" Mickey asked.

"Yes, for example." She started the footage. The screen was filled with colored blobs, all except one of them stationary. Jack couldn't make out anything to be honest and Mickey looked just as clueless.

DS Abnett froze the video and pointed out several of the blobs. "There are definitely heat signatures of four people, all of them in the back room as far as we can tell."

"That doesn't add up," Mickey said what Jack had been thinking. "Would you be able to detect a body with this as well?" he asked.

"That depends. Even after death, the body still emits heat and cooling happens only slowly. So yes, normally a body could be detected, but with so many other heat sources, I just can't say for certain. I'm sorry." She seemed sincerely apologetic.

"Thank you, DS Abnett," Rayner dismissed her absently, his mind clearly mulling over the possibilities. They had to assume that one of the hostages was dead and there was no telling who it could be.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

oOo

It was Jack who finally broke the silence. "Have you tried to establish contact yet?"

DCI Rayner nodded. "Yes and no. One of my detectives called the shop's phone, trying to verify the distress call we received. He didn't think there was anything to it at first, but when the line suddenly went dead, he brought the matter to my attention and here we are. We wanted to wait for you before entering into any negotiation. One of your detectives has faxed us the files, but they only tell half the story. Plus, there is a lot to go through and time may be of the essence if one of the hostages has been hurt."

"That's a distinct possibility, I'm afraid," Jack said. "The man we are dealing with is both extremely violent and unpredictable."

"What exactly happened tonight? As I understand, the Hinckley murder happened over six months ago and the trail had gone cold since. What has prompted all this?" Rayner asked.

"I wish we knew. If we did, we might have some clue as to what he's got planned."

"Well, whatever his plans might have been, I don't think this was part of it," Mickey considered. "He probably thought we had caught up with him already when he spotted your officers and panicked."

"I doubt they knew what they were walking into. If they had suspected anything, they would have called for back-up," Rayner replied in an irate tone.

"No one doubts that," Jack said in an attempt to calm the situation, "However, the question is what do we do now?"

"We force him to make the next move" Rayner declared grimly.

oOo

As Emma watched Brian pace restlessly along the length of the small back room, a plan was beginning to form in her mind. It was a pretty simple plan, but it was the only possible course of action she could see, other than waiting for an armed response team to storm the building, which would no doubt happen sooner or later if the police was unable to enter into negotiations with the armed man.

She knew that she didn't stand a chance on her own, but if she could somehow get at least one of the other two hostages to help her tackle Brian, there was a very real chance that the whole thing would end without any additional bloodshed. Unbidden, her thoughts returned to Dan and she wondered if the arrival of the two officers meant that Dan had been able to free himself after all. She quickly cast the thought aside, however. The two constables wouldn't just have walked in like that if they had had any idea what was awaiting them. No, they probably had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It occurred to Emma that she didn't even know for certain whether the police knew what was happening. She had automatically assumed that the phone call had been an attempt at negotiation, but it occurred to her that she really couldn't know for certain. This realization only strengthened her resolve to try and carry out her plan.

Emma was waiting for an opportunity when Brian's back was turned to her when suddenly, the light bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered briefly before it died, leaving the room in inky blackness. It took only a split second for Emma to make up her mind. Calling upon all her remaining reserves of strength, she jumped up and tackled the man. Unable to see anything, she slammed into her target without slowing down and her momentum brought her to the floor on top of Brian. The sound of a shot going off mingled with a tangle of voices yelling and screaming. Emma thought she heard something – the gun – clatter to the floor, but with all the noise, she couldn't be sure. Without warning, she was thrown backwards. The back of her head made contact with something hard and unyielding and everything was swallowed up by an explosion of pain.

oOo

Emma came to with a start. She opened her eyes, but found them assaulted by a bright light that immediately seemed to drive a spike of pain through her head. Emma quickly slammed her eyes shut and tried to turn her head away from the light. The motion only provoke more pain and Emma let out a groan.

"That's it. Come on, open your eyes!" a voice said from somewhere above. It sounded friendly but urging. "Open your eyes if you can hear me."

Emma reluctantly complied and this time, found herself staring up into the face of an unfamiliar woman. The memory of what had happened suddenly hit her like a sledgehammer and, now feeling more than slightly panicked, Emma tried to sit up. It turned out not to be such a good idea, as a wave of pain and dizziness washed over her as soon as she'd moved her head,

"Easy, easy." Steadying hands caught her and helped her sit up. Now, Emma could at least see what was going on and what she saw reassured her immensely. She was still in the small back room, but Brian was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she could see Mickey standing just outside the door, along with a man who seemed familiar, although she couldn't put a name to the face just yet. Turning her head carefully, she glanced to her side where a paramedic was tending to the other two hostages. Both of them seemed to be still in one piece, much to her relief.

"Does anything hurt?" Emma turned her attention back to the paramedic.

"Yeah, my head hurts," she replied.

"Nausea? Dizziness? Double vision?"

"A bit dizzy," Emma admitted. "But I think I just sat up too fast. I'm all right."

"Well, you did pass out, so we better get you checked out."

Emma sighed, but gave in without argument.

oOo

Two hours, an x-ray and a blood test later, Emma was pronounced fit to leave the hospital. Dozens of unanswered questions filled her mind, despite her overwhelming fatigue. Stepping out into the corridor, she was pleased to see Mickey and the man she'd seen with him earlier apparently waiting for her.

"How are you feeling Emma?" Mickey greeted her.

"Okay, I guess." Emma settled for the simple answer. It wasn't quite true, or maybe it was. She didn't really know how she felt or couldn't put it into words anyways.

"Do you feel up to giving a statement?" the other man asked in a serious tone.

"I should be." Emma agreed, knowing that it would be easiest while the memories were still fresh, not that she thought she'd ever be able to forget what had happened.

"Good. The Oxford colleagues are anxious to hear what happened and frankly so are we."

oOo

Morning had been dawning by the time Emma had finished giving her statement. Some of her questions had been answered in the process, but others were still weighing on her mind. But all in all, she had felt like they could wait until she'd had some sleep. Mickey and the other man, who she now knew to be DCI Meadows, had been about to drive back to London and had offered to take her along.

Emma had fallen asleep in the back seat during the drive and only woke when they hit the stop-and-go of early morning London traffic.

"Feeling better?" Mickey asked with a backwards glance.

"A lot. Thanks by the way," she said.

"Don't thank us, thank Dan. It was him who told us what happened," Jack told her.

"How is he by the way?" Emma asked worriedly.

"He was pretty out of it when I talked to him, but I spoke to his doctor and he said Dan should be all right in a few days."

Emma breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"There is one other thing you should know..." Mickey began hesitantly and something in his tone made Emma immediately worry.

"What is it?" she asked nervously.

"It's Will. He has been in an accident with his bike yesterday." Mickey told her.

"How bad is it?" Emma managed after a moment. She thought back to the angry words they had exchanged and instantly regretted them.

"Not good, I'm afraid." DCI Meadows said.

Emma's heart sank and she barely took in Mickey's next words.

"We think there is a chance that it wasn't an accident." Mickey said slowly after a long pause. "it's not definite," he added hurriedly "But the circumstances are a bit suspicious."

Emma nodded shakily. It never seemed to end, she thought. All those people who'd gotten hurt, they had been hurt because of her, because of their association with her. Emma felt tears rising in her eyes. It was all starting to catch up with her.

She barely noticed the car coming to a stop. It was only when Mickey opened the door for her that she realized that they had arrived at Sun Hill station.

"What are we doing here?" Emma asked. She had expected them to drop her off at home.

"I telephoned your father before we left and he's waiting for you at the station. I don't think it would be such a good idea for you to be alone right now," DCI Meadows explained. Emma nodded and climbed out of the car. She followed the two men into the station where her father was already waiting.

"Emma!" he exclaimed and hugged her. "I'm so glad to see you. Are you all right?"

Emma could only nod. Physically, she was fine, but she felt very far from all right at the moment. This wasn't something she could discuss with her father. First, she needed some time alone to sort things out in her head and then she needed to make some decisions.

oOo

Emma was surprised to bump into Dan when she made her way to the Victoria ward of St. Hugh's hospital late afternoon that day as it was Will whom she had come to visit. After a meal, a shower and a few hours sleep, she felt a little more like her usual self. Her father had offered to take the day off from work in case she didn't want to be alone, but Emma had declined. She needed some time by herself.

Dan greeted her warmly. He had heard the story of what had happened that night already so Emma was spared having to recount the experience she'd prefer to forget as quickly as possible.

"You look good for someone who's been shot yesterday," Emma commented after they had exchanged greetings. She was genuinely pleased to see Dan up and about, even though he carried one arm in sling an did look a little bit paler than usual.

"Apparently, it wasn't as bad as it looked. No bones broken." Dan said with a grin. "I'm not supposed to be out of bed yet, but I wanted to check how Will was doing," he added, his tone growing serious again.

"Well, I'm glad you're going to be all right." Emma told him sincerely. "I came to visit both you and Will. How is he doing by the way?"

"Last I heard, he was lucky to be alive," Dan said gravely.

Neither of them spoke as they continued on their way to the ward.

Emma sat silently at Will's bedside while Dan was trying to get some information from the nurse. There had been so much she had wanted to say, but now, she couldn't put any of it into words. Not that it would have mattered, Will was still unconscious. Emma was so lost in thought that she almost didn't notice Dan stepping up to her. It was only when he softly said her name, that she turned around. The expression on Dan's face told her all she needed to know.

"Oh no...." she whispered, feeling tears rising in her eyes for the second time that day. Without a word, Dan pulled her into a hug with his good arm. Burying her head in his chest, Emma allowed herself to weep openly. The tears weren't just for Will, they were for everyone she had lost. Dan let her cry without comment, and simply held her. Time lost all meaning, until Dan gently nudged her.

"Emma!" Emma lifted her head, suddenly feel self-conscious of her emotional outburst. "Emma, look!" Emma turned to look in the direction Dan had indicated.

Emma could hardly believe her eyes, when she saw Will blink up at them.

"I'm going to get a doctor. You stay with him!" Dan decided, leaving Emma behind at Will's bedside.

"Will?" Emma whispered tentatively.

"Emma." The words were barely audible, but they still brought a huge smile to Emma's face.

Emma was about to speak when Dan returned with a doctor in two. The doctor quickly ushered them out of the room and told them to wait outside.

oOo

Down the corridor, Dan and Emma sat on a pair of uncomfortable plastic chairs, waiting for news.

"What did they tell you? Earlier I mean." Emma asked Dan.

Dan didn't meet her eyes. "Not a whole lot."

Emma wouldn't be satisfied. "They must have said something. Or you wouldn't have been so surprised when Will woke up."

"Let it go, all right?"

But Emma wasn't letting it go. She was just about to ask Dan once more, when the doctor Dan had brought with him earlier appeared.

"Are you two family of Mr Fletcher?" he asked.

"We're colleagues of his," Dan answered.

"Well, normally I'd prefer to speak with his family, but I have been instructed to let your colleagues know anyways, so you can pass the news on to them."

"That's no problem." Emma said. "Now, can you tell us how he is doing?"

"We haven't had the chance to run conclusive tests yet, but the fact that he's awake and aware is a very good sign."

"But I was told earlier that he wasn't expected to wake up...." Dan protested, obviously confused.

"That was our assessment of his condition at the time, true," the doctor acquiesced uneasily. "But obviously it was somewhat flawed. My sincere apologies to you. If you would excuse me now," he turned abruptly on his heel and hurried away.

"I guess we better call to station and give them the good news," Dan said after a pause.

"I'll take care of it," Emma offered. "You should lie back down." It had not escaped her how Dan's voice had grown strained, presumably due to the pain from his injury.

oOo

"Not that I'm not glad to go back home," Will began, "but I will regret not seeing as much of you."

Emma laughed. Almost two weeks had passed since Will had first woken up after his accident, but they had passed quickly enough. Today, Will had finally been declared fit enough to leave the hospital. Emma had offered to accompany him home, with Dan busy at work.

"I don't know about seeing, but you are going to be hearing rather a lot of me. At least you will once you get back to work," Emma suggested.

Will looked at her questioningly.

"Starting next week, I'll be working in CAD. Only part-time for the moment, but it'll still be good not to be cooped up at the flat all day," Emma told him. She had known for a couple of days, but it had never seemed the right moment to tell Will.

"That's great, Emma!" Will exclaimed.

"Until then, I'm planning to make the most of the next few days. I just hope you're up for it, Mr Fletcher!" Emma said laughing again.

The End


End file.
